Annie have the orange," echoed the second boy, nine years old. 66 'Yes, Annie may have the orange, because that is nicer than the apples, and she is a lady, and her brothers are gentlemen," said the mother, quietly. 6. Then there was a merry contest as to who should feed the mother with largest and most frequent mouthfuls. Then Annie pretended to want apple, and exchanged thin, golden strips of orange for bites out of the cheeks of Baldwins. As I sat watching her intently, she sprang over to me, saying: "Don't you want a taste, too?" The mother smiled, understandingly, when I said: "No, I thank you, you dear, generous little girl; I don't care about oranges." 7. At noon, we had a tedious interval of waiting at a dreary station. We sat for two hours on a narrow platform, which the sun had scorched till it smelt of heat. The oldest boy held the youngest child, and talked to her, while the tired mother closed her eyes and rested. The two other children were toiling up and down the banks of the railroad track, picking ox-eye daisies, buttercups, and sorrel. They worked like beavers, and soon the bunches were almost too big for their little hands. 8. Then they came running to give them to their mother. "Oh, dear," thought I, "how that poor, tired woman will hate to open her eyes! She never can take those great bunches of common, fading flowers, in addition to all her bundles and bags." I was mistaken. "Oh, thank you, my darlings! How kind you were! Poor, hot, tired little flowers-how thirsty they look! If they will only keep alive till we get home, we will make them very happy in some water, won't we? And you shall put one bunch by papa's plate, and one by mine." 9. Then she took great trouble to get a string and tie up the flowers; and then the train came, and we were whirling along again. Soon it grew dark, and little Annie's head nodded. Then I heard the moth er say to the oldest boy: "Dear, are you too tired to let little Annie put her head on your shoulder and take a nap? We shall get her home in much better case to see papa, if we can manage to give her a little sleep." How many boys of twelve hear such words as these from tired, overburdened mothers? 66 10. Soon came the city, the final station, with its bustle and noise. I lingered to watch my happy family, hoping to see the father. Why, papa is n't here!" exclaimed one disappointed voice after another. "Never mind," said the mother, with a still deeper disappointment in her tone; "perhaps he had to go to see some poor body who is sick.". 11. In the hurry of picking up all the parcels, the poor daisies and buttercups were left forgotten in a corner of the rack. I wondered if the mother had not intended this. May I be forgiven for the injustice! A few minutes after, I passed the little group, standing still just outside the station, and heard the mother say: "Oh, my darlings, I have forgotten your pretty flowers. I am so sorry! I wonder if I could find them, if I went back. Will you all stand still and not stir from this spot, if I go?" 12. "Oh, mamma, don't go, don't go. We will get you some more. Don't go," cried all the children. "Here are your flowers, madam," said I. "I saw that you had forgotten them, and I took them as mementos of you and your sweet children." She blushed and looked disconcerted. She was evidently unused to people, and shy with all but her children. However, she thanked me sweetly, and said: 13. "I was very sorry about them. The children took such trouble to get them; and I think they will revive in water. They can not be quite dead." "They will never die!" said I, with an emphasis which went from my heart to hers. Then all her shyness fled. She knew me; and we shook hands, and smiled into each other's eyes with the smile of kindred as we parted. 14. As I followed on, I heard the two children, who were walking behind, saying to each other: "Would n't that have been too bad? Mamma liked them so much, and we never could have got so many all at once again." "Yes, you could, too, next summer," said the boy, sturdily. 15. They are sure of their "next summers," I think, all six of those souls-children, and mother, and father. They may never again gather so many daisies and buttercups "all at once." Perhaps some of the little hands have already picked their last flowers. Nevertheless, their summers are certain. Heaven bless them all, wherever they are. "H. H." EXERCISES IN INFLECTION. 1. They had been visiting the mountains. 2. No young girl, anxious to please a lover, could have done either with a more tender courtesy. 3. Oh, give Annie the orange. Annie loves oranges. 5. "Oh, dear," thought I, "how that poor, tired woman will hate to open her eyes." 6. You shall put one bunch by papa's plate, and one by mine. 7. Oh, my darlings, I have forgotten your pretty flowers. 8. "Yes, you could, too, next summer," said the boy, sturdily. TH XLIX.-MY MOTHER. HE feast was o'er. Now brimming wine, Before each eager guest; And silence filled the crowded hall 2. Then up arose the noble host, Here, before all, I pledge the name 3. Quick to his feet each gallant sprang, And every cup was raised on high, 4. "Enough, enough," he, smiling, said, Now each in turn must play his part 5. Then, one by one, each guest sprang up, 6. 'Tis now St. Leon's turn to rise; Envied by some, admired by all, 7. St. Leon raised his kindling eye, 8. "To one whose love for me shall last When lighter passions long have past, So deep it is, and pure; Whose love hath longer dwelt, I ween, 9. Each guest upstarted at the word |