Netty Morgan


Material Information

Netty Morgan
Physical Description:
62 p. : ill. ; 16 cm.
Dodd, Mead & Company ( Publisher )
Dodd, Mead & Company
Place of Publication:
New York
Publication Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Seaside resorts -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Sewing schools -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Charity -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Family -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Poverty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1882   ( local )
Bldn -- 1882
Family stories   ( local )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York


Statement of Responsibility:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 002239791
notis - ALJ0325
oclc - 62510129
System ID:

Full Text


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T was a dark and stormy day. The
rain was coming down heavily, beating
Sthe flowers to pieces and making little
brooks run down the gravel walks, and
Leslie Grey, with her little dog Dandie in
her arms, stood at the library window
looking out at the rough sea.
It's no use, chicken," said her sister
Cassy, who was seated at the large table
with drawing materials before her; we
must make up our minds to stay in to-
day. Come and get something to do
and forget the weather."
Oh dear! I don't know what to do,"


was Leslie's answer. If I were a boy
with rubber boots I could do anything.
What can I do, Cassy ?"
Write a letter to mother," said Cassy.
" You've never written her one all your-
self, have you ? "
"No, I never have, and I will," an-
swered Leslie. I'll begin this very min-
ute." Whatever Leslie did was done with
energy. She came now, inkstand in hand,
and drawing up a chair beside Cassy,
went to work upon her letter with a will,
and persevered until she had the paper
nearly covered in her large childish hand.
Now, Cassy, dear, you read it over,"
she said, "and see if it is all spelt right,"'
and Cassy obligingly laid down her pen-
cils and did as requested.
Dear mother," the letter ran, I wish
I could see you. We have a great many



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things to do here all the time. This is
a very nice place, but there are too
many people on the beach now. We
have a nice new dog, he is black, he is a
Newfland dog, and he is Stephy's dog,
he is called Sancho. I own Dandie.
Archie owns the cat, she is full of fun,
and we have a nice time. Clara and
Maria one day tried to do good and a
woman frightened them away.
"1 Good-bye, dear mother. Come back
to us soon. I give a great deal of love to
you and father, and Isabel.
Your little daughter,

Cassy smiled a little over this summary
of the family news, but she praised the
neatness of the writing and corrected
one or two misspelt words; and then


without asking for help Leslie directed an
envelope with her own hand. Her spirits
now quite restored, she danced away,
Dandie frisking after her, to have a game
of ball with Archie. Her objections to
the people on the beach were shared by
all the young Greys. The previous sum-
mer they had had it almost to themselves,
Sea Knoll being at a distance from other
houses; but during the winter a large
hotel had been built a little way from
them, and the throngs of people who now
frequented the beach made the children
feel rather crowded out.
The attempt of Maria and Clara to do
good had taken place some time before
this. Clara was a cousin and adopted sister
of the Greys and very nearly the same age
as Maria, and the two girls, who were now
almost fifteen, had during the winter col-


elected together a dozen little girls who
came to the house twice a week, as a
sewing class. Miss Lovel, "Cousin
Lettice," as the Greys all called her,
Clara's older sister, who took charge of
the family in Mrs. Grey's absence abroad,
had helped and encouraged the girls in
this work, and they had become much
interested in it.
The nearest village was at the railway
station two miles away, and the girls
sometimes drove thither on errands, as
they had a gentle horse and could go
about quite safely alone. They had often
noticed near the principal crossing a stall
for the sale of nuts and candy, kept by a
rather old woman, with a very red face.
It was one pleasant morning in May that
they were driving by, when Clara ex-
claimed, There's that pretty little girl


again; I wish we could get her for our
"Just as pretty as ever, and just as
ragged," said Maria. If we could
teach her to make herself some clothes, it
certainly would be a good thing. Why
not ask the woman to let her come; I
suppose they live somewhere in the
village, and she would not mind the walk
at all."
Well, when we have done our errands
we will go back and see about it," replied
Clara. "I've no doubt she would be
highly pleased."
Accordingly, when their shopping was
finished, they walked back, quite con-
fident of success in their benevolent
I think," said Maria, "that we had
better let her begin upon her dress first;


we can help her, you know, and it is not
much work, and will make her look re-
spectable among the others."
I think so too," replied Clara; and
there are such. pretty prints at Sandford's
now we might as well get the stuff before
we go home, and ask Lettice to show us
about cutting it this afternoon."
Before they had settled what color to
choose they drew near the stall. The
little girl was still standing in front
of it.
Maria," said Clara, half stopping,
"it's rather a dreadful-looking woman."
She is not lovely to look upon, it's
true," answered Maria, "but I suppose
she can't help that. Perhaps she is
like Stephy's dog, and beauty is her
least merit. I'll speak to her if you'd
rather not."


At this moment the woman to their
amazement, leaned forward and adminis-
tered a violent box on the ear of the
little girl.
Now get out the way wid ye," she
said, "shtoppin' up the walk whin the
quality's coming. Then in a very different
tone, "An' what can I sell ye to-day,
ladies? I've beautiful fresh candies and
"We don't want to buy anything,"
said Maria; "we came to see if you
wouldn't like to have your little girl go
to our sewing class. They come twice a
week to our house, and we teach them
to sew," she exclaimed; and when they
have made a dress, or an apron, or any-
thing else, they have it for their own."
"Oh, do let me go!" exclaimed the

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Should yer tongue, miss, an' lave me
do the talking, answered the woman.
If Maria had been a little more experi-
enced, she would have seen that the
woman was intoxicated, but as she was
innocently going on with her explanations
she was suddenly interrupted by a violent
An' is it a pauper ye're takin' me for ?"
exclaimed the old woman; "and me wid
a respectable business; an' ye'll give the
girl a dhress, or an apron, indade, when
she's made them. Indade an it's meself
doesn't need tachin' about me own affairs,
an' I'll thank ye not to shtan' there hinder-
in' me customers coming' up. "The virago
flourished her clenched fist as she poured
forth this unexpected answer, and Clara
and Maria, thoroughly frightened, turned
about and fled.


Not till they had got a safe distance
away did they venture to look back, and
then they saw her in the act of giving the
little girl a thorough shaking.
Oh, how dreadful," exclaimed Clara.
"Abominable old wretch," said Maria
indignantly; and the poor. child wanted
to come."
The phaeton was driven home much
more rapidly than usual this morning,
and the girls recounted their adventure
to a deeply interested audience at their
early dinner.
"I've seen her often," said Stephen;
" they live in that little brown house just
across the railroad track. The man
looks like a decent laborer, but I've seen
her so tipsy that she could hardly walk
That must be what ailed her this morning.
It's very well she didn't shake you instead


of her daughter. Next time, my dears,
you had better take me and Sancho along,
and we'll see that you are treated with
proper respect."
Some little time passed before they
went again to the village, and then they
missed the stall from its accustomed
Our friend has disappeared, Maria,"
said Stephen, who accompanied them.
" She has made her fortune, no doubt, and
retired from business."
I'm so sorry for that little girl," she
answered. But though greatly disap-
pointed at this failure, they were destined
to have her for a pupil after all. It so
happened that a day or two after Leslie
had written the letter to her mother that
young lady took a fancy into her head.
Up the hill opposite the house was a


wood, to which the children had often
gone to seek for wild flowers in summer,
and later in the season to gather nuts.
Cousin Lettice, of whom they were all
very fond, and little Archie, the youngest
and pet of the family, had been absent on
a visit for a few days, and it occurred
to Leslie's mind that it would be very
nice to decorate the parlor in honor of
their return this morning. Nothing could
be so pretty, she thought, as some of the
creeping vines which grew in this wood
in great abundance. She tried to in-
terest the older girls in her plan, but
Clara had some work to prepare for the
sewing class, which met this afternoon,
Cassy was deep in a new book, and
Maria very busy with Nat in the gar-
"We'll gather a quantity of flowers here,

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dear," said Maria; and Nat and I will
take you with us the next time we go to
the woods, which will be in a few days."
"But I want to go to-day," insisted
Leslie; where's Stephy ?"
"Down on the beach," answered Nat;
"he is going to train Sancho to bring
things in out of the water."
Leslie walked away on hearing this
without making any reply, and her
brother and sister went on with their
operations, supposing that she had gone
to the beach also to watch Sancho's ma-
noeuvres. But not so.
Finding that she could not persuade
any one to go with her, and not willing to
give up her idea, Leslie set to work to
persuade herself that she could go quite
well alone; and being a little girl of a
good deal of self-will it was not long


before, if any one had thought of looking,
they might have seen her, basket in hand,
march out at the gate with Dandie caper-
ing beside her, and take her way up the
steep road which led into the wood.
Having been there many times before
in company with the other children, she
had no trouble in finding her way to the
spot where she expected to see plenty
of the creeping vine she had come in
search of. To her surprise and dis-
pleasure she could find only little bits
here and there, while the dead leaves
were stirred up, the little bushes broken,
in a way that showed plainly that some-
body had been there not long before, on
the same errand as herself.
"Well, I think we had better move,"
said she at last, when she had searched
in vain for one nice long piece. First


they take our beach to themselves, and
now they're spoiling our woods."
Leslie spoke aloud in her indignation,
and to her surprise a child's voice close
at hand replied, "What did you say? "
She turned her eyes hither and thither
without seeing any one, and the voice
went on: "I've been watching you for
ever so long ; you won't find any creeping
Charlie there, but I know a place where
the ground is just green with it."
But where are you?" cried Leslie;
" I can't see you."
"You don't look in the right place,"
answered the voice with a little laugh;
" look up."
Leslie looked and beheld perched
above her head, in a hemlock tree a lit-
tle girl, bareheaded and barefooted, and
clad in very ragged clothes, but with a


pretty and pleasant face which looked
down smilingly at her.
Are these your woods? she asked,
laughing again. I always thought they
were mine."
Of course they're not mine," answer-
ed Leslie. We live at Sea Knoll, but we
always come here for things, and now I
want to trim the parlor, and I can't find
one single vine. 1 think it's too bad."
"Oh, you live at Sea Knoll," said the
little girl from her perch. 1 know where
that is, and I know Miss Grey when I see
her ; I like her."
She's my sister," said Leslie; every-
body likes her."
I shouldn't think they'd let you come
up here alone," went on the girl; you
might get lost in all these woods. It's
miles to the other side."


"We often come," said Leslie, look-
ing around her half frightened, for the
thought of getting lost had never crossed
her mind. I'm going right back, but I
want to find a few vines first."
"Well, come with me then, and I'll
show you where," said the little girl, slip-
ping down from her tree as easily as a
bird. I know the woods all through, so
there's no danger as long as you are with
Now Leslie of course knew perfectly
well that she did very wrong in coming
away as she had done, and that it was
still worse to accept the invitation of a
strange girl to go. wandering about the
woods; but paying no attention to these
thoughts she picked up the basket she
had set down and moved on with her new
acquaintance. It was after walking quite


a distance that they came to the spot
she had promised to point out, and true
enough the ground really was carpeted
with beautiful vines and mosses.
Oh, how perfectly lovely !" cried Les-
lie, as she knelt down and began plucking
right and left; drawing up long pieces of
the vine, which she wound into a wreath
to carry on her arm, and loading the bas-
ket with the beautiful ferns and mosses.
The little girl, whose name, as Leslie
had before this learned, was Netty Mor-
gan, seated herself upon a long stump
and waited. Her eyes wandered among
the tree-tops, as she watched the birds,
and for some time she said nothing. At
last she turned to Leslie, whose basket
was now nearly full.
I'd just like to know," said she, if
they knew you were coming up here this

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morning, or if you didn't run away. I
think it's very queer if they let a little
girl like you go into the woods alone,
when you might get lost so easily. Do
you think you could find your way home
now? I believe you ran away."
Leslie did not wish to own to a stranger
that she had done so, and was not at all in-
clined to call her expedition by such an
undignified name. Why, you came all
alone," she answered.
That's very different," said Netty;
" I'm older than you, and I know the way
all over; and besides I come here because
I have to."
I don't see why anybody has to come
to the woods; I thought that was a place
where people came just for fun," replied
"Why," said Netty, "I get the vines


and wild flowers and all sorts of things to
sell. I sell them to the people on the beach,
and sometimes 1 get a good deal of money."
So it's you who spoiled our nice place
and tore all the vines up to sell them! "
cried Leslie indignantly. Oh, what a
shame I'd never have come here with
you if I'd known that. I shall just go
home this minute." She had already
gathered up her vines and now caught up
the basket, and turned hastily away in
what she thought was the right direction.
"But that's the wrong way," called
Netty, who was a very good-tempered
child, and was quite surprised at Leslie's
indignation. "Don't go that way ; come
with me, I'll show you. And I don't
see why you should be mad; I wouldn't
have taken those if I'd known you wanted
them so much, but I've got to earn some


money. I'm not like you, with every-
thing I want. Just look at my clothes."
Leslie's wrath never lasted long, and
it vanished entirely on hearing this soft
answer. She turned quickly toward
Netty, saying eagerly, Oh, why don't
you come to my sister's sewing class ? she
would like to have you ever so much."
In her eagerness she did not look to see
where she was stepping; her foot caught
in one of the long vines and down she fell.
Netty was at her side in a moment help-
ing her to rise, but to their dismay she
found, on gaining her feet, that she could
with difficulty stand, and could not walk
at all.
It's my knee that hurts," she said in
answer to Netty's question, and trying
hard not to cry ; there was a stone there.
Oh, dear how can I ever get home ?"


I could go and get somebody," said
Netty. "Would you be afraid to stay
alone ?"
"Oh, yes, I should," cried Leslie.
"Oh, don't go and leave me Oh, no, I
shouldn't. Do go quick, I want to go
home. Oh, please don't be long."
I'll be just as quick as ever I can,"
answered Netty, and proved her words
by setting off to run while she was yet
speaking. Leslie watched her fleet steps
as the bare feet skimmed over the mossy
ground till she entered a denser part
of the wood, and the little ragged dress
disappeared among the trees. She had
managed with Netty's assistance to reach
the large flat stump on which the latter
had been sitting and to place herself upon
it, but her knee ached badly, the loneli-
ness of the still wood made her afraid,


and the* moments seemed very long.
Leslie was a brave little girl. She tried
her best not to be frightened, and not to
cry, but something within her said,
"Now, Leslie Grey, see what comes of
being naughty and having your own way,"
and in spite of her brave efforts the tears
rolled down her cheeks. Dandie, seeing
her in trouble, and wishing to express his
sympathy, put his paws upon her lap and
licked her fingers with his little pink
Oh, Dandie, I'm so glad you're here,"
said Leslie. I knew it was naughty all
the time, and we might have had such
fun with Stephy and Sancho."
She thought she must have been sitting
there at least an hour, but in truth it was
only about a quarter of that time when
she heard voices and the sound of some


one coming through the bushes, and in
another minute Netty Morgan came run-
ning forward, followed at a little distance
by a man.
Oh, wasn't it lucky !" she exclaimed.
" I hadn't got half way to the road when I
met this man, and I told him there was a
little girl hurt here, so he left his gun by
a tree and came without any asking." The
man, who now came up, seemed much
surprised at seeing a child of Leslie's ap-
pearance in the woods alone. He very
kindly helped her to her feet, and aided
her while she tried to take a step or two,
then, seeing that it caused her a good deal
of pain, said, I think you had better not
try to walk at all till the doctor has seen
your knee. Will you let me carry you ? "
"Oh, thank you," said Leslie; "but
I'm very heavy. I wish I could walk."

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I think you had better not try," he re-
peated. I will carry you out to the road,
and then we can bring a carriage to take
you home."
So lifting her in his arms they began
the journey, and Netty picked up the
basket and wreath of vines and followed
after. Leslie felt very much ashamed,
but there was no help for it. The man
was very kind and carried her very care-
fully, but the ground was rough and un-
even, and as they jolted on she wished
more than ever that she had not been so
self-willed. But at last they reached the
road, and there, just coming down the hill
toward them, they beheld a wagon.
Here comes help just at the right mo-
ment," said the man. "We'll get you
home without any delay."
"Thank you very much for carrying


me," said Leslie, as he seated her upon a
large stone by the roadside. I'm afraid
you are very tired."
"Oh, not at all," he replied, smiling,
and went forward to stop the wagon.
Leslie was a little girl who thought a
Good deal of appearances, and, to her dis-
may, she saw that it was no other than the
fish-man, who now drew up his horse
before her.
Hurt her knee, eh?" said he; "one
o'them little Greys, ain't it ? Oh yes,
I'll take her home."
She would much rather have sat by
the roadside till Netty should run down
to Sea Knoll for help, than to have mount-
ed the fishy wagon; but the stranger
had been so kind, and she had already
made him so much trouble, that she was
ashamed to object. He lifted her care-


fully in, and handed her the basket of
treasures, while Netty, with the vines on
her arm, climbed up on the other side.
"Good-by !" he said; I hope you'll
be much better of your hurt to-morrow."
"All aboard said the fish-man, then
cracked his whip, called out G'long to
his bony old horse, and away they rattled
down the steep hill, Dandie keeping be-
side the horse, and barking at him all
the way.
In the mean time Leslie had not been
missed from home for a good while, as
they all supposed. her at the beach with
Stephen, but when he returned alone,
everybody asked, Where's Leslie ?" and
nobody was able to answer the question.
The girls hunted the house in vain for
her, and the boys hunted the grounds,
and Mrs. Ryder, the housekeeper, took a


look into the closet where the jars of cake
and other dainties were kept, but no
Leslie appeared.
"Why, Nat," said Maria at last, "can
it be possible that she has gone to the
woods alone !"
"You wouldn't think so," answered
Nat; but she is an enterprising young
woman. We had better go and see."
It was just at this point of the search,
while the whole family was gathered on
the piazza, that the sound of a voice say-
ing "G'long!" was heard, and Leslie
made her entry, enthroned in state upon
the fish-man's scaly wagon, and looking
very much ashamed of herself. Nat and
Stephen made a lady-chair, and carried
her in to the sofa, Netty following with the
"Any fish to-day, mum," said the fish-


man to Mrs. Ryder, and when she had
directed him what to leave, he said
" G'long !" again, and rattled away to the
kitchen door.
When Dr. Bronson had examined the
injured knee, he used some long words
and said it was not a serious hurt; but
that the patient must keep on the sofa for
a week, by which time he thought she
could use it again. As they all thought
this a pretty severe punishment for Leslie,
who never could sit still long at a time,
not much was said to her about her ex-
cursion, but Cousin Lettice had a little
talk with her the next morning; at the end
of which Leslie assured her that she
would never do so again.
It was with great pleasure that the
older girls recognized in Netty Morgan
their little friend of the candy stall. They


asked her many questions about herself,
and learned that the woman who kept the
stall was not her mother, but her mother's
aunt, who had come to live with them
after her mother's death.
I didn't go like this when mother
was living," said poor Netty, blushing as
she looked down at her tattered clothes.
" I was always neat, and I went to school.
Aunt kept steady for a while after she
came, and the stall brought a good deal
of money; but then she began to drink it
all up, and there was no more comfort
after that. Poor father has often been sick
and not able to work, and since he got
hurt trying to save her we've had pretty
bad times."
Why, how was that, Netty?" asked
Clara. "Is your father ill now? how
did he get hurt ?"


It was the cars, Miss Clara," an-
swered Netty. It was just after you
were asking aunt to let me come to your
school, and poor father was angry when
I told him about it, and said he would be
thankful to have me go ; and he told aunt
she had disgraced us all, and she must
mend my clothes and send me; and then
she was angry, and next day took more
than ever.
"You know where our house is, Miss
Clara; near the track. Well, coming
back that night, she much she was
stupid-like, and tried to cross when the
train was just there ; and poor father tried
to drag her off, and it struck them both,
and he's in his bed ever since, and she just
sitting by the window and grumbling."
"But," said Maria, "how can you
get on ? Surely you cannot earn much


by what you sell, and who takes care of
them ?"
It's my sister Eliza, Miss Grey," an-
swered Netty proudly. "I've just that one
sister, and she's young, but oh, she's good.
When aunt began to go on so bad, she
went and took a place, and she told me to
keep good courage, and just as soon as
she could get a little money laid up, she'd
take me away. But when poor father got
hurt, she came right home, and it didn't
take long to use up her savings. It's
shirts she makes now, Miss Grey, and
keeps the sewing machine that was
mother's going every minute she gets,
night and day."
"But she will be ill herself," said
Clara, if she has to work so hard."
She's just tired out with the hard
work, Miss Clara," said Netty, with tears



I: .

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in her eyes. "She never sets foot outside
the door, only Sundays, and once that I
coaxed her up to the woods with me when
one of the neighbors came in to sit. I get
a good deal some days with the greens,
and I do anything else I can. There was
"a gentleman took my picture one day in
"a boat, and he gave me a dollar, but that
never happened again ; and if father don't
get better soon, I don't know what we
shall do," and here poor Netty was
forced to stop, for she could keep the
tears back no longer.
"Do not cry, my dear," said Cousin
Lettice, who had entered in time to hear
part of the story. I am very glad Leslie
met you in the woods, for now that we
have found you out, I hope we shall be
able to help you and your good sister.
When you have had your dinner, we will


see if we cannot find some things for you
to take home which will make your father
more comfortable."
Oh, thank you, ma'am," said Netty,
ceasing to cry, and beginning to smile.
Cousin Letty," said Cassy, when Mrs.
Ryder had called Netty away to her din-
ner, there is my blue flannel dress, that
I have outgrown, and it is very good yet.
Don't you think it would do for Netty
Morgan ? "
"I think it would do nicely, dear,"
answered Miss Lovel. "I will take
Netty home, and see what can be done
for her family ; for if her story is correct,
they must be sadly in need of help.
Would you like to come with me ?"
"Oh, very much, thank you," said
Accordingly while Maria and Clara at-


tended to their sewing class, Miss Lovel
and Cassy, accompanied by Netty, who
in the neat dress looked quite like another
child, drove down to the village and
across the track, to the little brown house.
They found all as she had represented,
the father sick and suffering from his in-
juries ; the sister stitching busily away on
the machine, and the old aunt, as Netty
had said, just sitting by the window and
The place was clean, but very bare,
and the basket of good things they
brought was very gratefully received by
"It's more than we both can do,
ma'am," she said, "to earn what poor
father needs for his comfort, and he is so
patient it is very hard to see him suffer."
We will drive round by the doctor's,


Cassy," said Miss Lovel, when they had
recrossed the track. "I think the best
thing for them all will be to get Netty's
father admitted to a hospital. There
he will have proper care and treatment,
and if Dr. Bronson thinks he can be
moved, the sooner it is done the better."
Dr. Bronson, when he had seen the
sick man, was decidedly of opinion that
the hospital was the best place for him,
as his injuries were such as to require
skilful nursing. Before the end of the
week the necessary arrangements were
made, and poor father," as Netty and
her sister called him, was removed to a
hospital in the large county town a few
miles distant. As it appeared that the
aunt had relations living at a distance who
were in quite comfortable circumstances,
she was sent to live with them, and thus


relieved of their heavy burdens, and
having found kind friends, it was easy for
Eliza and Netty to maintain themselves.
Netty still gathered greens, as she called
them, to sell to the people on the beach,
but she came regularly to the sewing
She had begun to learn to sew from her
mother, and proved now a very apt and
very pleasant pupil. It was not long
before she really made herself a new
dress from one of the very prints which
Clara had seen at Sanford's and thought
so pretty.
After all Leslie did not regain her
liberty at the end of a week; but had to
lie on a sofa a fortnight, for her knee did
not get well so fast as the doctor expected.
She bore it very patiently on the whole.
Dr. Bronson told her about the ward


for children in the hospital where John
Morgan had been taken, and she diverted
many hours by making a scrap-book for
Netty to carry to the little patients there
when she should go to visit her father.
Dandie was her faithful companion all
the time. He would look at the patient
with a grave face when she held the book
before him, and would scarcely leave her
even to take a run with Sancho, of whom
he was so fond. Many a hugging did he
get from Leslie for his devotion, and more
than once did she tell him that he wa9
"a good and a precious dog." After
a fortnight she was allowed to go out
for a drive every day, and in the course
of another week was once more able to
It was not long after her recovery that
Mr. and Mrs. Grey returned from their


long absence abroad. The children's hap-
piness was now complete, and the sum-
mer fled so swiftly that before any of
them were ready for it the time came for
them to return to town for the winter.
Mr. Grey had decided to purchase Sea
Knoll for a summer residence, and one
morning the question arose who should
be put in charge of the house during the
Oh, father, do put in our Morgans,"
said Leslie.
They are as honest as daylight," said
I think you will find John Morgan
a reliable man, father," said Nat.
"He knows how to take care of a
dog," said Stephy. (Sancho was to stay
in the country.)
Eliza is very neat," said Clara.


"And Netty is such a nice girl," said
Excellent reasons, all of them,"said
Mr. Grey; the Morgans it shall be."
"Oh, goody, goody!" cried Leslie,
catching Dandie by the two fore-paws,
and dancing him round the room ; and
Dandie, hearing everybody else give an
opinion, raised his voice also and remark-
ed emphatically, Bow-wow-wow."
So all the Greys went home to return
again in the spring; and the Morgans
moved in to take charge of the house.
John Morgan had been at home again
for some time. He was now nearly well,
but the doctor said could never be very
strong any more, and he felt very thank-
ful for so good a situation, where Eliza
need not work so hard, and Netty could
go steadily to school.

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Now, father, come a little walk with
me to the woods," said Netty, when he re-
turned from taking the last load of trunks
to the station, and I'll show you just
where our luck began. Right there it
was," she said, as they reached the hem-
lock tree, that I was sitting, when Miss
Leslie came that day, and making some
wreaths to sell, and there I've let them
hang to this day; but I've something
prettier than them to show you; I
brought it with me to show it to you on
the spot."
She pulled off two or three papers from
a little parcel in her hand and held up a
pretty silver cup.
Look! she said, what Miss Les-
lie left me for a keepsake. See, she had
a vine like them cut on it, and my name;
and she says I'm to use it every day for


a remembrance of that time in the woods;
and oh, daddy, oh, this winter won't be
much like the last, will it ? and all through
my meeting Miss Leslie here that day."
It's pretty indeed ; and Miss Leslie s
very kind," said her father, putting his
arm fondly around her as he looked
admiringly at the cup. But would you
like to know what it will put me in re-
membrance of ? It will be a remem-
brance to me always that all our good
fortune is owing to my little girl trying
to do her best, and help her poor father
when he could not help himself."