"You hold the book, and I will turn over the leaves." "Oh! you may hold the book too, if you like, Harty; only do tell me all about the pictures.' "Of course I will tell you, Dolly; only the worst of it is, just the pictures I like best you don't care about." "Yes," returned Dolly, laughing; "and those I like best you say are 'rubbishy.' So that makes it fair, doesn't it?" But her brother did not laugh. He was so intent upon a picture in the book they were looking over. It had been given to them only that morning, and was full of pictures of all sorts, beautifully coloured. The brother and sister were sitting on the grass-plot, under a shady old tree, which kept the full heat of the summer sun from off their heads. All round were sweet flowers, and the birds were singing in the trees; while the B tinkling of a brook over the pebble stones, outside the garden hedge, was just faintly heard. It was very delightful. Harty bent over the book a long time, with his eyes fixed upon the picture; as though he could never take them off. "Isn't it grand?" he said at last, drawing a deep breath. "Well, now,” said Dolly, who had sat very patiently all the time, though she had not enjoyed looking at the picture, "that is one I don't care about! "What! not that splendid ship with her sails set, and the waves dashing, and rolling up to her sides?" "But look how dark the sky is !" said Dolly, rather sadly; "and presently, perhaps, there will be a storm, and the beautiful ship may be dashed to pieces!" "Nonsense! why, the sailors will take in the sails, and make all snug, and she will ride out the gale, and get into port safe enough." "Yes, but suppose it did not get into port safesuppose father and mother were in it?" “Well, they will be, some day.” "I wish they were in that very ship coming home now!" said Dolly. Her smiling little face was grave as she spoke. "Do turn over, Harty, to another picture!" The boy lingered still over this one. "I do love sea pictures, and ships too." He turned the leaf, rather reluctantly, as he spoke. "There!" cried Dolly, " that is a beauty! Oh, Harty, you do like that, don't you?" It was the picture of a lovely garden, with a number of children playing. Swings, leaping-poles, cricket-bats, balls, and skipping-ropes; every kind of game and amusement seemed to be there. In the midst was a large tent, where a long table was set out with fruit, cakes, bowls of milk, curds and whey, and other delicacies. "It is a school treat, I guess," said Dolly. "Or a birthday party," observed Harty. "I say, look, Dolly, see that dog standing on his hind legs to be fed. Isn't he just like Bannock?" "So he is," replied Dolly; "oh, don't turn over just yet, Harty, I haven't half looked at it!" "There, you see!" exclaimed her brother, "now you want to be such a time over this, and you did not care for that grand old ship. She is worth all this put together. "Go on, then," said Dolly, who was a most unselfish little soul. "I can look at it another time. makes you call a ship 'her' and 'she,' Harty?" "Why, sailors always do." "But you are not a sailor." "Ah! but I shall be some day." "Aunty says you are to be a doctor." But what "I know better, though. Besides, there are doctors in ships." "Oh, that is a lovely one!" cried Dolly again, as the turning of the leaf disclosed a brilliantly coloured scene of a fairy tale, all jewels and glitter, and sparkle. "I don't care twopence for that!" said Harty scornfully, "that isn't like anything real that ever you saw. I like real things!" "But see that funny little fellow flying, with a lighted torch, and all glittering with fire-flies." "I shall see fire-flies, real ones, in India," said Harty. "But you are not going to India!" cried Dolly, in a tone of dismay. "I am," said Harty decidedly, as though it was all settled. "I am going all over the world, when I grow up." "You will wait till father and mother come home." "Of course I shall," returned Harty, as he turned the leaf of the book. Dolly said no more. The prospect of her dear parents' return more than compensated for the possible absence of her brother, dearly as she loved him. "Here's a camel!" was Harty's exclamation. "The 'ship of the desert' they call him. Look at his patient old face. See, there is one kneeling down, to have the load put on his back. I do like camels. Would you be afraid to ride up there on his back?" "Indeed I should," replied Dolly, who was this time interested in the picture as much as her brother. "Ah! that is because you are a girl. But I have often. dreamed I was riding on a camel, and an elephant too; and I was not a bit afraid." |