Page images
PDF
EPUB

" "Tis not too late-repent, repent!

And all may yet be well!"
“Repent yourself!” the Nephew sneers,

And at it goes pell-mell !

To right and left he carves his way,-

At least thus did it seem;
And, after he had done the deed,-

Woke up from his bad dream,

And swift to Uncle John he ran

When daylight climbed the hill,
And told him all and Uncle John
Put Nephew in his will.

JAMES T. FIELDS.

THE STORY KATHIE TOLD.

Youth's Companion.

Now, stay right still and listen, kitty-cat, and I'll

tell

you a story. Once there was a little girl.

She was a pretty good little girl, and minded her papa 'n' mamma everything they said, only sometimes she didn't, and then she was naughty; but she was always sorry, and said she wouldn't do so any more, and her mamma'd forgive her.

So she was going to hang up her stocking.

“You'll have to be pretty good, 'lest 'twon't be filled,” said her mamma.

'Less maybe there'll be a big bunch of sticks in it,"

said her papa.

Do you think that's a nice way to talk, kitty-cat? I don't.

So the little girl was good as she could be, 'less she was bigger, and didn't cry and slap her little sister hardly any be tall, and always minded her mamma when she came where the chimney was, 'specially much.

So she hung up her stocking.

And in the night she got awake, and wanted it to come morning; but in the morning she didn't get awake till 'twas all sunshiny out doors.

Then she ran quick as she could to look at her stocking where she'd hung it; and true's you live, kitty-cat, there wasn't the leastest thing in it—not the leastest little mite of a scrimp!

Oh, the little girl felt dreadfully! How'd you feel, s'pose it had been you, kitty-cat ?

She 'menced to cry, the little girl did, and she kept going harder 'n' harder, till by’mby she screeched orfly, and her mamma came running to see what the matter was.

Mercy me!” said her mamma. “ Look over by the window 'fore

you do that any more, Kathie." That little girl's name was Kathie too, kitty-cat, just the same's mine. So she looked over by the window, the

way

her mamma said, and-oh! there was the loveliest dolly's house you ever saw in all your born life.

It had curtains to pull to the sides when you wanted to play, and pull in front when you didn't.

There was a bedroom, kitty-cat, and a diner-room, and a kitchen, and a parlor, and they all had carpets on. And there was the sweetest dolly in the parlor, all dressed up in blue silk! Oh, dear! And a penano, to play real little tunes on, and a rocking-chair, and-o kitty-cat! I can't begin to tell you half about it.

I can't about the bedroom, either, nor the diner

room.

But the kitchen was the very bestest of all. There was a stove—a teenty tonty mite of a one, kitty-cat,—with dishes just 'zactly like mamma's, only littler, of course, and fry-pans and everything; and spoons to stir with, and a rolling-pin, and two little cutters-out, and the darlingest baker-sheet ever you saw!

And the first thing that little girl did was to make some teenty mites of cookies, 'cause her mamma let her; and if you'll come right down stairs, kitty-cat, I'll give

you one.

'Cause I was that little girl, kitty-cat, all the time.

A. C. H. S.

THE NIGHT-WATCH.

SOON

OON as her lover to the war had gone,

Without or tears or commonplace despair,
Irene de Grandfief reassumed the garb
That at the convent she had worn-black dress
With narrow pelerine—and the small cross
In silver at her breast. Her piano closed,
Her jewels put away-all save one ring,
Gift of the Viscount Roger on that eve
In the past spring-time when they had parted
Bidding farewell, and from Irene's brow
Culling one silken tress, that he might wear it
In gold medallion close upon his heart.

In the ranks He took a private's place. What that war was Too well is known. Days came and went till weeks wore into months, Still she held back her rebel tears, and bravely strove To live debarred of tidings.

Then came the siege of Paris—hideous time!
Spreading through France as gangrene spreads, invasion
Drew near Irene's chateau!
Roger at Metz was with his regiment safe,
And at last date unwounded. He was living ;
He must be living; she was sure of that.
Counting her beads, she waited, waited on.
Wakened, one morning, with a start, she heard
In the far copses of the park shots fired
In quick succession.

It had indeed
Been a mere skirmish—that, and nothing more.

"Twould be well,” Remarked Irene, “that an ambulance Were posted here.”

In fact, they had picked up Just at that moment, where the fight had been, A wounded officer-Bavarian he Shot through the neck. And, when they brought him in, That tall young man, all pale, eyes closed, and bleeding, Irene commanded he be borne Into the room by Roger occupied When he came wooing there. Then, while they put The wounded man to bed, she carried out Herself his vest and cloak all stained with blood; Bade the old valet wear an air less glum,

And stir himself with more alacrity ;
And, when the doctor dressed the wound, lent aid,
As of the Sisterhood of Charity,
With her own hands. The officer at last,
Wonder and gratitude upon his face,
Sank down among the pillows deftly laid as one asleep.

Evening came,
Bringing the doctor. When he saw his patient,
A strange expression fitted o'er his face,
As to himself he muttered : “Yes; flushed cheek;
Pulse beating much too high. Phew! a bad night;
Fever, delirium, and the rest that follows !"-

But will he die ?” with tremor on her lip
Irene asked.

“Who knows? If possible, We must arrest the fever. This prescription Oft succeeds. But some one must take note Of the oncoming fits; must watch till morn, And tend him closely."

“Doctor, I am here."

“Not you, young lady! Service such as this One of your valets can

“ No, doctor, no !
Roger perchance may be a prisoner yonder,
Hurt, ill. If he such tending should require
As does this officer, I would he had
A gentle lady for his nurse.'

“So be it,”
“ You will keep watch, then, through the night.

The fever
Must not take hold, or he will straightway die.
Give him the potion four times every hour.

[ocr errors]
« PreviousContinue »