• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 The harpsichord lesson
 Learning to spin
 "All on a winter's day"
 The minuet
 A story of olden times
 The little ladie of the sedan...
 Dreaming before the old fire-p...
 Battledore and shuttlecock in a...
 A colonial red riding hood
 The fencing lesson
 Sunday morning a hundred years...
 A doll's great-grandmother
 Back Cover














Title: Children of colonial days
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082773/00001
 Material Information
Title: Children of colonial days
Physical Description: 25 leaves, 12 leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 31 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Tucker, Elizabeth S
Moran, Percy, 1862-1935 ( Illustrator )
Frederick A. Stokes Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Frederick A. Stokes Company, publishers
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1894
 Subjects
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's literature -- Juvenile literature -- 19th century   ( lcsh )
Picture books for children -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Social life and customs -- Juvenile literature -- United States -- To 1775   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1894   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1894   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1894
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: with numerous full-page color plates after paintings in water colors by E. Percy Moran ; and with decorative borders and other designs, together with new stories and verses, by Elizabeth S. Tucker.
General Note: Decorated borders and text printed in color.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00082773
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223391
notis - ALG3640
oclc - 16125128

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Frontispiece
        Page 3
    Title Page
        Page 4
    The harpsichord lesson
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
    Learning to spin
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    "All on a winter's day"
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    The minuet
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    A story of olden times
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
    The little ladie of the sedan chair
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
    Dreaming before the old fire-place
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    Battledore and shuttlecock in a garden
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
    A colonial red riding hood
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
    The fencing lesson
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    Sunday morning a hundred years ago
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
    A doll's great-grandmother
        Page 38
        Page 39
    Back Cover
        Page 40
        Page 41
Full Text












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CHILDREN
OF


COLONIAL DAYS

WITH NUMEROUS FULL-PAGE COLOR-PLATES
AFTER PAINTINGS IN WATER COLORS BY
lE. IPerc fiDoran

AND WITH DECORATIVE BORDERS AND OTHER DESIGNS, TOGETHER
WITH NEW STORIES AND VERSES BY
13abetb Z. tuckerr


NEW YORK
CopyrigAh, .89, by
greberick 21. Stores Compang
PUBLISHERS






















Sbe lbarpsicborb lessonn .


SN an old manuscript we read that George Washington
p resented to Nellie Custis, "at Philadelphia, a fine
harpsichord." And then her grandmother [Mrs. Wash-
ington] made her practise upon it four or five hours a
day." And her brother adds : She would cry and play,
and play and cry for hours !"
Out of the past comes this picture of a little girl, sitting
at a tall spinet, or harpsichord, (which was the first kind of
piano), and someway to my mind comes also the picture
of that brother probably teasing a little at the parlor door,
as poor Nellie sat "playing and crying "; for if brothers
were then what they are to-day, that is very likely just
what he did.
Dear little maid! I can see her as she sat, toiling
away for hours with her warm little fingers, and with her
toes dangling down from a tall stool, in.front of that old
harpsichord.
Out of doors the sun was shining warm and soft. The
birds were calling to her to say how lovely it was out
there, and the roses nodding in at the window beckoned
her to come and play with them.







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tbe 1barpstcbor %Lesson.


Her brother, with a wild swirl on his way to the garden, stopped to laugh at her tears, and only made
them worse. She evidently did not love music ; but in those days little girls, and boys, too, had to do as
the grown-ups told them to, and never thought of rebelling. And harpsichords were very few in this
country when it was a new country, long ago; and so it was a great treat to many people who came to
her grandfather's house, to hear one played.
Dear little Nellie Custis! I wonder how many, many little girls since her time have sat as she,
did, and worked as hard to make black dots on lines of music go on white and black keys of ivory.
That very same harpsichord is still standing in the dim old room in the mansion where she lived; and
as you see it, with its tall legs, there is always a picture of a little girl, whose weary fingers wandered up and
down its key-board, learning to make music for others to enjoy.


Out of History's dusty page
Comes a little maiden,
Probably about your age,
With sweet graces laden.


Practising the long hours through,
Scales and stately measure,
Patient, learning things to do
rust for others' pleasure.






































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Scarning to spin.


WEET little Prudence Wilson was learning how to
spin. It was rather hard work for the tiny arms to
reach the spindle and draw the thread-and for the little
toes to reach the ground from the tall stool she sat
on, was quite impossible. Still Prudence had to learn.
The day w\as bright and sunny, and dear Sister Ruth
and Prudence took cmbroidi-ry frame and spinning-wheel
out in front of the wide hall doors. It was very dis-
tracting to hear the birds singing overhead, and to want
so much to watch Wilfred at his fencing lesson on the
lawn, with the other boys. But Prudence had to learn,
for all little girl then were taught to spin. and to sew,
and to embroider the stitches on samplers, that they
would want to know how to do when they were young
ladies. So, Sister Ruth sang over her embroidery frame,
and little Prudence listened, and they talked.
Prudence said, \Vhen I grow to be a big young
lady like you, Sister Ruth, I shall wear a lovely pink
.-own and have a tall lover like yours."
And what will you do for him, little Prudence," asked
Sister Ruth, smiling quietly over her work.



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Learning to Spin.

"Oh, I will make him a beautiful, beautiful watch chain, all spun on the
spinning-wheel, of my own, own hair, which shall all be cut off to make the
thread. And if I am a prisoner in a castle tower, he will take the long, long chain
spun from my hair, which I will throw him down from my window, and he will
climb up it hand over hand, and take me in his arms, and climb down again, and
away we will go, and live happily ever after." -
"Very well," said Sister Ruth, "then, Mistress Prudence, you must take
your arms down from behind your head, and not stop to dream now, but learn to
spin a strong thread, with no knots in it." ,,
Then Prudence would go on spinning a long thread, while the kittens played
with the other end of it. '
Then she would say, Sister Ruth, why does Wilfred have play in the open /
air, while I have to sit and sew, and embroider, and spin ?"
Then Sister Ruth smiled again, and answered, It has ever been the way,
dear Prudence, for men to do the out-of-door things, and manly sports, and 7"
for maidens to do the gentle things, those that keep us quiet in the house, and are
useful to both men and maids. So tend to your quiet work, my dear, and stitch upon stitch is the only way."
So the sunny day came to a close, and many more of them also came and went. And many years of
days have gone since then; and to-day from a box, with a musty smell, I take an old sampler and read in all
the stitches this story of long ago.
It is all there is left-it, and an old spinning-wheel, which little girls to-day do not know how to use at
all. Wilfred's play and his sword are long ago done and over, yet here is the small bit of stitching that has
lasted all the long years, to tell a great-grandchild the story of a little girl's fingers patiently going in and
outf while her small feet ached to run, and it seems to me a rather great thing to have done something that
tells such a sweet story, and has lasted so very, very long.

































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"ALL ON A WEIiTERTS DAY"


OFF QE15 11TY1L- IFOLLY, ALL ONI WIA NTErS bIY,
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Y!.'.i!'' IiI22MYE WITH ILL HER MRlHT.


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"mall on a Wtlnter's BayC."


BUT THE IFLM-CAKEVJ CMST J I Gl.AF. LITTLE i.E-LYETEr.J fliii E.
SLIIFFERY, JO .LlJiirFU f. IYOF OI I0 NOT nHN,
AND TIHE BEST AHb SAFEJT WAY
IJ TO FMSH BEHIIW A JLEIHll.

JaCK FKOST LIKES TO MNF A IOJE. HIbE IT Fi4JT INI bIEEF,
INM TOME KA'', WARN AMl JHMQ, ALL YOMK LIliiLEJ KIEEF.
DPK SHE rOMES WITHRAFi ILRlE.
WAS HM'T THAT JOLLY I DE?


















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tbe Mlinuet.


TAY back in the long ago,-yes, away back when
V V George Washington was a boy, they danced the
minuet-our dear little Great-Grandmothers and manly
little Great-Grandfathers. They did n't know that they
were Great-Grandfathers and Great-Grandmothers, but we
know, for they were our own, and here we are !
In rows they stood-the billowy silken skirts of the
girls opposite the velvet coats and satin knee-breeches of
the boys. It was the loveliest dress to wear in that
stately dance. The long coats of rich colors on the
boyish figures, and rustling silken skirts on the sweet
girls swaying to and fro in the slow figures.
., With a sweeping rustling curtsy, with a bend of the
S satin waistcoats, with a sweet chord on the spinet and
guitar, the dance began. Back and forth went the solemn
:_. little folks, never faster than a walk, keeping time to
the delightful one, two, three of the music-crossing
and re-crossing in the different figures, following the head
couples in a stately march-two and two. Now bending ;


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in graceful curtsys, while the little cavaliers knelt and saluted the tips of dimpled fingers, then holding
aloft silken scarfs in airy folds, entwining and interlacing all together. Soft and sweet the chords of music,
dark the shining floors, reflecting bright candle lights and dainty satin-clad feet. Rich the colors of the
beautiful gowns and coats, and sweet, oh sweet, the dimpled rosy faces of the dear little children, as they
trod the sober measures of that most graceful of dances-the minuet of the long ago !





















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E stor0 of Mlben
Times.

IT down here by me, my little Alice, and you shall
hear me read a story,-yes, a true story about
your own Great-Grandmother. She has written it here in
this little book for us to read, the story of how she left
her dear old home in sunny England to come across the
wide ocean in a poor little boat, not at all like the wonder-
ful steamers of nowadays.
Your Grandmother, dear Alice, was a little girl, and
well remembers the tiresome voyage over those long, long
miles of tossing waves. There were many delights and
novelties for her, as the sailors of the ship were very kind
to her, and loved to toss her up in their strong arms, for
she was never sick, and would stay up on the deck as
long as she would be allowed to, looking out over the
waves when others were down below in their berths.
These sailors would tell her stories, and they grew very
fond of seeing the little figure in her red cloak, watching
them with her bright eyes, and listening to their songs.
But her mother, with many other mothers, was ill
all the long dreary way, and a sorry time they had, all
crowded together in the stuffy little cabin down below.










R Ztorp of Iben Etmes.

Many times Grandmother has told me of it all, and of how at last they got to the new, strange land which
was our America, where they found such cold and rocky shores, and where their fathers had to build houses
out of logs for them to live in, and had to build them strongly to keep out Indians and wolves. Everybody
helped : even the little children carried things to help in the building. How glad they were for every little
thing they had brought with them from England !-pins and all such things,-for there was none at all in
this new country. Oh, those were hard, hard times, little Dorothy, and they were brave people, your grand-
parents, to do it all for freedom for us !


"And freedom we will have some day in this America, for even now thine own father, whose portrait
hangs beside you, and all. the fathers in the land are determined that we shall be free from English rule,
even if there must be a war."

Long, long ago these words were spoken, and this story, told to listening little Alice who is a Great-
Grandmother now herself, 'and long ago gone away,-and see how the words of the gentle lady came true !
The war she told about did come. Alice's father, and the fathers of her little friends, had the war that we
celebrate on our Fourth of July, and to-day, in this dear land of ours, we are having the freedom they
fought for.
Be glad of those true-hearted, brave Great-Great-GREAT-Grandfathers of yours, children dear.










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A RiEAT :EiL AIt- :, I ST-,,FriL MY WAY,
AHI TH1EIRE I HEARb 1 SIWEEiT --,' .i'..i 5Y


HERE IS HY LRn1E On1E-TOQ-EE1"I
SAND [ CSEi 7.. 'TNi ALL ibA IBNTLY
mIT lH IlRAiE SHE1r T -.I-TETL LOW TO E.





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Zbe fLttle labie of the Seban Cbair.


FONFEY AND 4SA HAVE bROM9HT W 9TH ARE

nT LAbLE IN HER SED5AN CHAi1K,

WITH ALL IHER FINER TO IWEAK





OF FROUKS Amb %OWNS LfA.N &F.rlAY

TO 1IE K IY LALIE EVERY ATY,

FOI TIS A WEEK THAT SHE WILL STAY!





WITH WELXONE WAif, WE RIEET YTO iLEMi,

"A"iFT tiA WIE Io TO KEEIr TOM NMEAR,

AND MiAKE YTO VISIT LAST A YEAI ?










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Dreaming before the @Ib
fire-PIace.

T HERE she sits in front of the fire, dreaming the
dreams that a little maid dreams when twilight and
bedtime are coming on, and the flames curl themselves so
easily into the long golden hair of floating fairies. Then
in the old mirror over the chimney are reflected all the
dear old nursery friends of tale and rhyme and Mother
Goose. Puss-in-boots is there, and princesses, stern old
knights, and helpful little fairies, who always make things
come right in the stories.
And in the centre of all, there is the enchanting Prince,
whose curls of gold float out, and who smiles down into
her eyes as she sits and dreams of him-so brave, and
gallant, and gay! The room is full of her fancies, and
they come down and take her hand, and touch her eyes so
that she sees in the glowing coals castles, turrets, knights,
and burning cities.
Sit down by the big fire yourself some night, when
you 're tired of play, just before bedtime, and look for
them all in that big bed of coals, tucked in among the
logs and flames. See that burning bridge! There is a
galloping dragon with smoke from his eyes coming over









Dreaming before the @lb fireIDlace.

it, and swiftly it burns, and just as he gets to the centre, crash down it goes, burnt
through by the fire-sword of a trusty flame-fairy. Down go two ends of a burnt
brand, and the bridge becomes a burning castle, with windows all where the black
places are. Over there is a tiger with glowing eyes, coming out of the smoke, and
those little blue and yellow flames are graceful fire-fairies, waving and vanishing
up the dark old chimney. Oh, it is the best place of all to dream beside, and to
see pictures in at twilight. Try it and see for yourselves. And now-just as the
dark is curtaining the light in the windows, so that the glowing fire-fairies can come
out and fill all the corners of the room, and just as you are having such a very good
time seeing them all and telling about them, the door opens, and somebody, nurse
perhaps, says that bedtime has come!
Here across the page you go-little figures clad in long white robes, with
very sleepy eyes, full of the dreams you are going to have, with candles in hand,
with locks neatly tucked up, curled up,
and covered with caps for the night. With
bare feet, going across the hall and up
the stairs away you all go-into the soft .
beds in the nursery, waiting like white
ships to carry you all across the sea of 4
night into the Island of Dreamland, where ,- _
all the fire-light stories and dreams come i'.'.,
true, and last for the whole night through. \
































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TE TIHAI N IRb-TES UALLINI,
TiEri VOICES MEL All CLE7r, ,
.s:.cFTa; KsR 7-.E^ THANpALLumR
THER FACES JWEET Hb fE4iK.,

RB ALL THIE iNKIEHIW'S 9KrES,
THERE IS NOT ANYWHERE,
IN V 5E OR SHELTEEIE FWLAIES,
A VUIJOIONI 'ML S50 AMl.

ALM lMYJ THIE %r.LEIi JMII1NY
THEIR FICTREJ CLEAR iJLU KEEF,
LIKE i JTORES IOF HONEY,
WHEN PEEf ANb FLOWERJ JLEEF.


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R Colonial 1Reb Mlbino lboob. ( /


T was the day before Christmas, many years ago.
Everybody was busy preparing for the happy day, in
the way they used to do in those Colonial days. The
Christmas had to be just as much like the Christmases in
Old England as they could have it in the New England,
Sj. for the sake of the old folks who had spent the holidays
S of their childhood in the Old England. The house was
all trimmed with greens from top to bottom, and even the
2 L great Yule Log was carried in on Xmas Eve, decked with
i wreaths of holly. Only here it was carried in by grinning
i Sambo and Pompey-the jolly servants of the new country.
Little Red Riding Hood went all alone that day clear all
the way to Grandmother Pennyhurst's. It was a mile away
and over the snowy country. Everybody was busy
) ---putting up greens, and Cousin Althea even had a bunch of
i mistletoe which she hung high in a rather conspicuous
S place in the hall. It came in a box from England, with
some holly from the dear old homestead there, and Little
Red Riding Hood thought of how dearly Grandma
Pennyhurst would love to have in her Christmas decora-
tions a bit of the real old holly from her own home. So .


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she picked out a nice big spray, and putting on her cloak, like the other Red Riding Hood, set off across the
road all by herself.
It seemed a very long way, and it began to grow dark sooner than she had thought it would, and as
she trudged along she felt a bit lonely. Suddenly, out of the bushes beside the road, she saw two fiery
eyes, and out stepped a great gray dog, who had a fierce red mouth and who snarled at her when she spoke
kindly to him, and did not seem a bit friendly. He slouched along beside her a few steps, sniffing at her
cloak, and then throwing up his head he gave a long queer howl, and trotted off into the woods across
the road.
Then the little girl was frightened indeed, for she knew that howl was the howl of a wolf! She was
very glad to look up and find the house so near, just across the field now. And as she ran quickly towards
it over the snow by the shortest cut, she realized it all. This, she was sure, was the Real Wolf in the story
of Little Red Riding Hood, who seeing her red cloak had thought her to be that same little girl going to
Grandmother's with her basket; but when he sniffed at her cloak, he knew it was not the same, and so
he ran away again.
When she reached the house, and told them about her adventure, her Grandmother clasped her Little
Red Riding Hood closely in her arms and said: My darling child, you have escaped a great danger That
was the wolf that has lately carried off Farmer Black's lambs from his fold, and he only ran away because he
saw the house was so near! "
This was what Grandma thought of it. Which do you think was the true version-hers or the
little girl's ?






















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Zbe fencing eson.


\ ~TILFRED'S father's friend, the Gentleman from
France, was Wilfred's hero in everything. He
was -o brave, so handsome, so clever, and so full of
-on-r. and story of strange, interesting life across the seas,
to.ld in his pretty broken speech, part English, part
Frcnch.
The Gentleman from France had no other name to
Wilfred and the children, for it was the only one they
ever found out that he had. No one would tell them
any other. He was a rather mysterious gentleman, for
he came suddenly one night, and the children, finding
him at breakfast next morning, were bidden to ask no
questions, and he just stayed on in their home. They all
loved him, Wilfred especially, for he was so jolly, and so
fond of playing with them. But sometimes he used to
sit and look very sad, and then if the children spoke to
him, he would answer them in French, with a far-away
look in his eyes.
One day, when Wilfred was taking his lesson in French
fronn the Gentleman, he asked about those two long, thin
s.,:.ords which hung crossed on the wall, over the picture
r.f a dark-haired lady, in the Gentleman's room.


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tbe fencing lesson.


The Gentleman from France turned quickly away and looked out of the window, saying nothing for
a long while.
Then he turned to Wilfred standing asking there, and said, It is a long, thin, cruel sword-very
little-very thin-but it killed my friend. It is for that I came to America."
Wilfred was very much interested, and after waiting a long time, while the Gentleman from France
looked sadly far out of the window, he said, I should like to know how to use the long thin sword." The
Gentleman turned about quickly, and laughed the sadness out of his eyes, saying, Boys are all alike, of every
country. Over in France, every gentleman knows how to use these swords. Come, I will teach you." So
he took a pair of foils, and they went out on the sunny piazza, and there Wilfred had his first lesson in
fencing.
After that, this Gentleman from France taught all the boys in the neighborhood, as all their parents
were glad of so good a chance for having their sons learn this gentlemanly art; for, in those warlike days,
it was deemed very necessary for every man to know how to use a sword in his own or his country's defence.
And what a good time they had How exciting it was to get their foils, and gloves, and masks, and
to throw off their coats, and learn to parry, and thrust, and bend, with the fascinating, long, thin steel
foils glancing in the sunshine. Of course these had little buttons on the ends, so no one could get hurt,
and the handsome Gentleman from France became very excited and jolly over it all.
And so it came about, that while poor little Prudence had to stay in the house and learn to embroider,
and spin, and sew, Wilfred, out on the lawn in the healthful sunlight, was taught to use the foils as a
gentleman should.















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sunbat Morning a lbunbreb
Iears Roo.

O NE Sunday, lovely cousin Kitty said, "Dorothy
Allen shall go to church with me." So Dorothy
was dressed in her white dimity skirt, with the blue
pelisse, had her freshest cap tied on, took Cousin Kitty's
book, and went out of the garden gate and down the
sunny street on the bright June day to church. The only
other time she had been she could n't remember, for it
was when she wore long, long baby dresses, and was
carried on a lace pillow to get her name, Dorothy
Catherine Pettigrew Allen, from the minister. Now she
was four years old, she was sure she was quite big enough
to go. How proud and pleased she felt as they walked
along the village street and saw all the other children
going too; and how grand she felt as she sailed up the
aisle beside Cousin Kitty.
She sat up very straight and still in the high pew, and
watched what everybody did. They sang very long and
loud hymns, and everybody sang. Every lady had a sprig
of rosemary or lavender carried in her prayer-book, and
the air had a faint perfume of it all the time. Up there
in the choir were the little charity-school children, all









!5unZaa p Mornfng a 1bunbreb rears Rgo.


dressed just alike in close caps, dark cotton gowns, short sleeves, and mitts. They stood in rows, and sang
away at the hymns,-some girls as little as Dorothy,-with their rosy faces and wistful eyes. And under the
gallery was such a very cross-looking man with a long stick, who leaned over and poked the boys and people
who went to sleep, waking them up to listen to the sermon. Cousin Kitty whispered that he was the
tithing man-and Dorothy must look out or he would be having to wake her up. But Dorothy knew that
she was quite too big a girl to go to sleep,-and anyway his eyes seemed always shut, though he never
missed seeing a sleeping boy or girl.
At last, after a great many hymns and long, long
prayers, the minister climbed into a tall pulpit, and began
to talk, and talk, and talk. His voice was very solemn,
and the church was very still, for no one answered him a
word. y -
The air came in very ". hot through the open doors
and windows, and a bee came in and buzzed about, and
Dorothy heard outside the horses stamping the flies away
and sneezing long whoups." ,, The birds were singing and
twittering in the trees and in the lanes of the church, and
a little swallow flew in and circled among the rafters over-
head, and then flew out again. Dorothy leaned back against
the high wooden pew.s Then she saw Thomas Ryder across
the aisle going to sleep, and his mouth dropped wider open
as his eyes shut tighter, and the old man under the gallery
did not seem to see him. She / got so interested in watching,
that she leaned forward, and crack went her white dimity
back where her warm little shoulders had been leaning
against the varnishy sticky I pew. The tithing man opened
his eyes with a jerk, saw z_:' \ Thomas, leaned forward, and
Thomas awoke at the other Il' end of the stick with a jump
that upset his father's book. I
Dorothy blushed very ''much, for she wanted to be so
proper and good, but Cousin --r Kitty smiled kindly and
handed her a leaf of rosemary to smell. Sermons were very,
very long in the days when Dorothy Allen went to church,
and the voice went on, and THE CHARITY CHILDRE4iv on, and on. And the church
was still and hot. She sat up very straight, to keep
herself awake-but presently everything looked dim, and her little cap was nodding like a heavy white rose
on its stem. And the voice grew far away-and the next thing she knew was a poke, and there at her pew
was that horrid tithing man He was actually smiling, and every one else looked around and smiled at the
" child who had to be waked up in church."
Poor Dorothy It was too much for her, and she sank in a heap of bashful misery to the bottom of
the pew, burying her crimson face in the cushions, where Cousin Kitty let her stay till church was out, and
then she only took her hand and said, Never mind." But poor Dorothy was deeply humiliated to think
that so great a girl as she had gone to sleep in church the first time she went.












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W R .\s. Gr eatGranbmotber,




J FOUND her in a garret one day, tucked away in the
bottom of an old chest,-this old, old dollie She was ,
S such a funny-looking dear, and I took her out and smoothed ,. .- i
Sheer wrinkled and quaint gown of brocaded silk, wonder- .
.' ing how a little girl could have loved a doll with such ugly .
Stands and queer hair. But a real little girl had loved her, '
and she was my own great-grandmother. For I found,
pinned to her gown, a note, yellow with age, which told
S,' ..... me all about her. This is what it said: Ti:.-: .
.- -,.,. ~"Written by my mother for me, to my dear grand---
.'. ; child who will first find this doll. Keep her always as
I 've left her, for it is with tears I put her away, having
Grown too great a girl to play with her any more, as I am
S nine years old! She was sent to me from London, and i-
-'i cost 4 guineas, and her clothing, made by a fashionable /
S dress-maker, cost 4,4s., a great price for a doll! I never
; "". I shall forget the day I got her. I stood her in a chair and\ r \P
a -- danced before her in my great pleasure. I loved her very -
much, and will tell you how I always thought she saved
', '' .my life. n
'-' 'i" I was playing alone on the beach, and, tripping my
toe, I fell into a deep hole by the roots of a tree, and a

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R 0oll's Great-Granbmotber.

great heap of sand falling in with me nearly covered me up, and made it impossible for me to get out. I
called, but no one heard, and my ankle, which I had twisted, becoming very painful, I fainted, and I surely
should have been drowned by the tide which was coming in, while insensible, had it not been that my dear
doll Florinda lay in such a manner that her foot and part of her gown were outside the sand in the hole,
where I was buried, and Jim, the black boy, coming by, saw her lying there. He dug her out, and so dis-
covered me and saved me. He was so excited that he left my poor dear doll behind, and the tide had
already wet her, when I, waking up in my mother's arms, called out for my Florinda, and Jim was hurried off
to fetch her. The stain on her gown was caused by the salt water, and I hope you will love her very much,
and keep her with care as I did.
"YOUR LOVING GRANDMOTHER,
"In the 9th year of her age-- 775."
Was n't that the loveliest thing to find ? And she is my very own Great-Grandma, for her dollie was
so hidden away that I was the first little girl to find it after all those years. We keep her as a great treasure,
and my dolls respect her very much, for she is their Great-Grandmother, I suppose.





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