Laura's promise


Material Information

Laura's promise
Series Title:
Pansy primary library
Physical Description:
138, 1 p. : ill. ; 18 cm.
Pansy 1841-1930 ( Author, Primary )
D. Lothrop & Company ( Publisher )
Photo Eng. Co ( Engraver )
D. Lothrop and Company
Place of Publication:
Publication Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1881   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1881
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston


Statement of Responsibility:
by Pansy.
General Note:
Illustrations engraved by the Photo Eng. Co.
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 - 002235347
notis - ALH5792
oclc - 62332880
System ID:

Full Text


Sunday School Library,

Vol.. ......... No.

The Baldwin Library
S. Unixverity




,A i, M.

flz L






Author of "The Man of the House," Mrs. Solomon Smith
Looking On," "The Hall in the Grove," Mary
Burton Abroad," Etc., Etc., Etc.






THAT boy Bob is a born mischief. Wheti
he comes to see me I dare not lose sight
of him for a single minute. He is sure to
upset my work-basket in his search for
strings and what boy ever stirred up a
work-basket without leaving his mark in
the wax, and giving the owner an hour's
work at rewinding spools of thread? I


have called him a born mischief. I sup-
pose his mother thinks him a born artist
but I should prefer, while his talent is in
process of development, he should not be
quite so free to practice upon the walls and
furniture. In his efforts to help, on wash.
day, he empties the bluing b int the
suds, drives the clothes-pi r the
ground for fence-posts, using grandmother's
knitting needles for the wires; and finishes
his day's work by opening the faucet, and
letting the water pour over the floor
while Bridget is putting up the clothes-
line. Suddenly he realizes that the wash-
room is a dangerous place for him just
then, for Bridget's temper is none of the
sweetest at any time, and he spends the

,11701 i

%%m,, \m NO


next half hour in driving nails into the
pillars of the front piazza, losing the ham.
mer, and breaking a gimlet or two.
These feats successfully accomplished he
appears once more at the back door. Nom
Grandmother Weston believes in Solo-
mon, and you will observe that she carries
her belief into practice, for she has the
rod all ready for use. She has missed her
knitting needles, and heard Bridget's com-
plaint, and now she is ready for that
boy Bob.
Look at him; he is explaining to
grandma. He- knows very well that she
will listen, and, if he can only make her
laugh, he will get off easily.
"Don't you know that you ,were a


naughty, wicked boy to carry off my nee-
dles ?" asked grandma.
"Why, grandma, you see I had to! the
chickens would get into the garden and
eat the tomatoes all up if I didn't make
a fence. Mamma wants some for dinner,.
and I'm going right off to pick them.
Give me a basket, will you?"
But, Robert "- Grandmother Weston
always says Robert -" you ought to be
punished for bothering Bridget. I am
sure I never saw such a dreadful boy. I
am sorry, but Solomon says "
0, grandma, I know what he says; you
told me the other day. I don't care about
hearing it over. Say, grandma, don't you
want to go out to the barn with me?


There's three of the cunningest, littlest
mites of kittens out there! I've got one
of Jennie's doll's dresses in my pocket,
and I'm going to dress the little black and
white kitten in it. Come, grandma, I'll
get your cane."
Grandma's face had been softening into
a smile ever since she first laid her eyes
upon Bob, and the young rogue ran after
the cane, and led the way to the barn,
where he played tricks upon his good old
grandmother, who scolded him one minute
and hugged him the next.
That night, when mamma put Bob to
bed, she said, pointing to a framed text
that hung upon the wall, My little boy
has forgotten to honor father and mother


"Why, mamma," said the little fellow,
in surprise, "you and papa have been
gone all day! How could I honor you?"
What does honor mean? asked Mrs.
Bob thought a little, then said:
"I guess I don't know; please tell
Well, my child, you honor your parents
when you remember to do as you think
they would like to have you when you
are careful not to do anything which would
make them sorry. If you act so badly that
the servants say that your mother is not
training her boy in the right way, that
he is a very troublesome boy, don't you
think that you are bringing dishonor upon


your parents? Now, to-day, you have
teased grandma, and made Bridget a great
deal of trouble by your thoughtlessness
and love of mischief. Mamma felt ashamed
when she heard Laura's story to-night."
It was a new idea to Bob, and it kept
him awake full ten minutes. The next
morning, while he was hunting for a stray
toy, turning everything in the room upside
down, he slipped behind his mother and
whispered: "Mamma, I'm going to honor
you to-day."


HERE is that boy Bob again.
This time he is truly in deep water -
or just getting out of it. How did it
happen (
That is what I am going to tell you.
Bob's- big brother Charlie seems to Bob
almost a man-he is twelve years old;
and whatever he does is the right thing





for Bob to do -so Bob thinks; and Char-
lie is a pretty good boy, and it is generally
safe for the little brother to follow his
example. And don't you think that all
the big brothers ought to be careful when
the little fellows are so ready to copy
them? But, Bob being a little bit of a
fellow, some things may be right and
proper for Charlie, which are not at all the
thing for Bob to try to do; and it was
trying to do one of these things, away
beyond his years, that brought the little
fellow into trouble.
Uncle Will, from the city, came up to
the old farm last summer and staid a long
time. The children enjoyed his visit, I
assure you. With the help of a good


carpenter, and Charlie and Bob (of course
nothing could be done without Bob) he
built a boat to sail on the river, and a
boat-house- and what splendid rides they
had! Uncle Will taught Charlie how to
manage the boat, and he was so careful,
and learned the lesson so thoroughly, that
his father allowed him to go out alone
after Uncle Will went back to the city.
But whenever the two little bits of chil-
dren went out, their papa went with
Now along the bank of the river, a little
way down from the boat-house, water lilies
grew; and one morning at breakfast Bob's
mother remarked:
"I think the lilies must be open. I
wish we could have some."


To which Charlie replied:
If I didn't have to go to school I could
get you some. Maybe I can get them
on Saturday."
Now Bob didn't have to go to school;
why shouldn't he get water lilies? Mamma
would be so glad! How she would smile!
She always did when the children did
things for her. He could get them just
as easy! He knew how to unfasten the
boat, and he could row of course he
About an hour after breakfast old Kriss,
who was just finishing that last row of
corn (they were late with their hoeing),
heard a child scream. Leaning on his
hoe he listened and he heard it again:


"0, somebody come! come!"
Kriss was old and feeble; but, as fast
.s he could he ran for the river, and
there, on the steep bank, was Bob, hold-
ing on by the bushes. Getting down upon
hands and knees, the old man said:
"Now, Bob, give me one hand; now
clamber up; steady now; put your foot
on that root there; now you're safe. Why,
how in the world did you get in there?
You're wet as a rat."
Sure enough, Bob was dripping; and
old Kriss thought it a good time to give
him a scolding, especially as the boat,
Charlie's pride and pet, was floating off in
the middle of the river.
"Say; what were you doing here, you
young rascal?"


"I came after lilies," sobbed poor B1,..
"Mamma wanted some, and I've got .o
get 'em. Say, Kriss," he said, brightening,
"couldn't you tie a rope or something
around my waist and let me down the
bank? 'cause I've got to get the lilies! "
Humph !" said Kriss, laughing in spite
of himself; "why didn't you get then
when you was down there in the water? "
"I was; but I just tipped out of the
old boat, and I guess I most drownded"I"
"I should say so! Who is going to
get the boat?"
This was a new trouble. Charlie's boat
But old Kriss dragged him along toward
the house, muttering:
"This you one beats all I,ever seen


He'll go now and have the fever, or some-
Bob did not have a fever, but he had a
sore throat and a stiff knee; and the doc-
tor said that it was a wonder that the
sudden plunge into the cold water, when
he was overheated, had not produced more
serious results. Bob was very sorry that he
had not remembered what his mother had
so often told him that little boys should
not try to be men, but should be their own
little selves, content to be looked after and
cared for taking up independence as
they grow to it.
"Mamma," said Bob, Kriss said you'd
whip me."
Mamma smiled.


Kriss didn't "know. My little boy
meant well, but he almost lost his life
because he tried to be a big boy."
I won't again; but I'll grow big, won't
I ?"
"I hope so," replied mamma.
And Bob is growing, growing.




LAURA was housekeeper. Mrs. Browne
had not been well all the fall, and had
at last been persuaded to go away for a
few days' change and rest. She could
hardly bring herself to do this, for Mr.
Browne had long been subject to sudden
attacks of illness, and she thought no one,
except herself could care for him at such



times; and when Laura said: "Do go,
mamma; I am sure it will do you ever
so much good, and I shall get along
nicely," the mother answered:
But, Laura, what would you do if your
father should have one of his spells of
neuralgia? I think he would die if he
happened to be alone."
"But he will not be alone. I will stay
right at home all the time; and I know
just what to do."
"Well, if you think you can be con.
tented to stay at home, and not run to
the neighbors, and leave your door open
at night, so as to be within call, I sup-
pose I ought to feel safe; and I know
it is true, as the doctor says, that I ought


to have a change of scene, and freedom
from work."
You may be sure, mamma," said Laura
"I will stay right here, and take the best
care of papa. I won't even go over to
Nellie's to spend the evening."
Her mother had been gone a week, and
Laura had kept her word faithfully, stay-
ing in the house when she longed for a
run in the crisp autumn air, for the days
were growing short and the nights frosty;
and when her father went out to attend
to their few chores, she looked out, as
her mother did, to see if all was well.
Mr. Browne had written to his wife, to
say that, as they were getting on so well,
if the change was benefiting her, she


would do well to remain away another
But there came a day when Laura
longed for her mother's return, as she
had not thought she could, unless' her
father should be ill.- He was as well as
usual, but Laura had gone about all day
with a wish in her heart, often expressed
- only to herself, however:
"I wish mother would come!"
And, as the twilight came on, she sat
down before the open fire in the Frank.
lin, to think it out. Her father was lying
on the lounge, asleep, she thought; but
he was watching her, and thinking what
a blessing she was to her parents.
"Dear me!" she thought. "I don't


see why things have to happen so! Why
did mother have to be gone just now?
or why did Anna have to go and give hei
party just when mamma was away? And
I never went to a real evening party in
all my life! It seems too bad to have
it happen so. If I hadn't promised mother
that I would not go anywhere -and I
needn't have promised so positively -
there is no need of my staying at home!
Father is real well. I could go just as
well as not, and I know Mr. Smith would
come over and sit with him, and I could
come home early. There really isn't the
least thing to hinder me from going to
Anna's party except that promise. I
know it is the promise that makes mother


feel at rest about father. But just for
one evening! I know she would say
'Go;' because, if we had known about
the party, I presume she would have made
an exception of this one evening; and
it does almost seem as if, knowing mother
so well, I might take it for granted that,
under the circumstances, I can be released
from my promise for one evening. There
is my dress, that mamma finished just
before she went, with the lovely ruffles
all in it, and the new gaiters and gloves,
and fresh ribbons. It seems as if every.
thing was made ready beforehand. It is
to be such a select affair, too! such an
opportunity to see something of good
society! and mother always thinks a good


deal of such opportunities, because she
says I have so few. But I can't go! I
promised mamma that I would not go
out a single evening, and that ends it!
I could never look in her face just the
same if I broke my word!"
It was after a long fight with Satan
that Laura came to the decision expressed
in the last sentence, and it was the thought
of her mother's trust in that promise that
helped her to the victory.
All the evening she resolutely kept her
face turned from the south window, from
which she knew she could see the lights
flashing out from Anna's home. It was
only when Nellie came to the door, to
ask if she was going, that she almost


broke down, and ran up-stairs to have a
little cry. That over, she busied herself
as usual, reading to her father, and chat-
ting cheerfully, until bed-time.
She had not slept when she heard her
father call faintly, Laura!" She was
out of bed, and, throwing on a wrapper,
was down-stairs in moment. The sight
of her father's pale face, with its agonized
expression, almost frightened her. She
had often seen him thus, but now she
realized that she was alone-that what
was done now must be done by her own
Bracing herself for the effort, she pre-
pared and applied the usual remedies. The
attack was unusually severe and prolonged,


and it was not until daylight that Laura
threw herself upon the lounge in the sit-
ting-room, for a little rest.
"Well," she said to herself, I am glad
I kept my promise. I should have been
ashamed, anyway, if I had broken it;
and, as it has turned out, it would have
been dreadful to have had it to remember,
that I was away, and father suffering here
alone. Besides, the doctor says that every-
thing depends upon the immediate appli-
cation of the remedies. I have learned
that something more than a selfish desire
is needed to absolve one from a promise.
I shall always be grateful to God that he
helped me to keep it."


POOR little Lulie was in trouble.
Instead of being in the carriage with
mamma, she was shut up alone in the
sitting-room, seated in a certain chair, and
told not to get out of it until mamma
called. She had cried until she was tired;
now she leaned her dollie on the floor,
against the chair, feeling too badly even


~~-B Iij



[7p%~ Lr'


to care for her, and thought about what
a naughty world it was. She thought
she was the most unhappy being on
the earth, but she was mistaken. There
was one who, at this moment, felt ten
times more miserable and that was her
ten-year-old brother Lewis. What was
the trouble ?
Why, this: About an hour ago mamma
came into the dining-room, where Lewis
sat mending his kite, and Lulie was
playing with her doll, and said: "Now,
Lulie Baker, you have been a naughty,
girl again. You have been in the
pantry, where I told you not to go, and
have eaten a large piece of the ginger.
bread which was there on a plate."


Then little Lulie said: 0, mamma,
I truly, surely didn't touch any ginger-
bread I" But mamma interrupted her,
looking stern, and stamping her foot just
a little.
"Hush! she said. I would rather
you had eaten it all, than to tell me
what isn't true. You dropped dollie's
slipper right beside the plate. Here it
is! Now you may go to the sitting-room
and stay there until I come."
Then, I am sorry to say, that little
Lulie began to cry very loud, and kick
her feet, and shake herself. If she had
kept quiet, and been gentle, it might
have been well; but mamma had to
forbid her speaking at all, and herself


put her in a chair, and tell her not to
get out of it. Now the truth of this
sad matter was, that the big brother,
Lewis, had gone to the pantry and
helped himself to the gingerbread. He
remembered that he had dollie's shoe in
his hand, too; he had picked it up in
the yard, and was bringing it to Lulie.
Why didn't he tell the truth? Why,
because he was a coward. He had a
bad habit of helping himself to ginger-
bread, and so he had been forbidden to
touch it, except at the table; but he
went to the pantry for a glass, and the
temptation had been too much for him
He was all ready to go with the boys
to the woods, to hunt for wild-flowers.


Nhat if he should own himself to be
the guilty one, and then his mother, to
punish him, should not let him go! It
was this silly and cowardly thought that
kept him quiet, and sent his wee sister
to sit for an hour alone.
Poor Lewis! "I didn't tell a lie," he
said, and he kicked some chips in the
wood-shed, out of his way, as though
they had been telling him unpleasant
truths. "I didn't say a word. She
didn't ask me if I knew anything about
it; if she had I should have told her."
"You acted a lie!" said his conscience.
",No I didn't; I didn't act at all. I
just sat still and mended my kite." But
he didn't believe a word of that, you


know. He knew he had been a thief, a
liar, and a coward! Those are hard words !
So they are. I am sorry that they are
true. How do you suppose Lewis
enjoyed the hunt after wild-flowers that
afternoon ?


"TELL me a 'tory," said three-year-old

Edward, climbing into grandma's lap, and
seating himself in a complacent and ex-
pectant manner.
Tell me a 'tory, grandma, about a littlee
"Grandma can't; she has told them all

out," said grandma, wearily, for the little


boys had sharp appetites for stories, and
kept up a constant demand, which required
the full exercise of all her inventive
"No you hasn't! you know lots!" per-
sisted Edward.
I'll tell you about a yellow bird," said
grandma, after a pause. Will that do? "
That would do exactly, so grandma
"When I was a little girl, and lived in
old Sandisfield, away off among the Berk-
shire hills "- that was the way many of
grandma's stories began -"I had no little
sisters to play with, nor any grandma or
aunties to tell me stories, and my mother
was always busy, so I had to contrive


ways to amuse myself. Your great grand-
father used to raise flax."
"What is flax, grandma ? interrupted
It is a plant that grows in the fields;
we do not often see it now-a-days, but
then everybody raised it as much as they
did wheat or corn."
"What for did everybody raise flax? "
questioned the boy.
"To make cloth of; cloth, and thread,
and ropes, and a great many things. We
didn't go to the store, in those days, and
buy our cloth; we had to spin and weave
it. Folks now-a-days think it a great task
to do the sewing. I don't know what
they would say if they had to make
118 .


their cloth and thread first. But then, I
suppose people look -"
Edward knew now that grandma was
going to moralize a little that is what
he would have called it had he been a
little older. And at this point he inter-
"rupted again:
Grandma! do tell about the 'ellow
"Yes, dear, I will," said she, recalled
to herself. Well, your grandpa I mean
great-grandpa -used to thresh the seed
out of the flax, and then spread the straw
out on the meadow, to lie several weeks
in the fall rains. We called that' rotting'
"it. It was to let the- outside decay, so
as to leave the long, tough, inside fibres,


which wle used to spin into thread. While
the flax lay out there, the yellow birds
would come to eat the seed which was
left. I suspect that my father used to
leave some on purpose for them. The
birds would be just as thick -you can't
think what a pretty sight it was! hundreds
of the little golden creatures hopping in
the bright sunshine. I used to go out
every day and try to catch one. I thought
I would be perfectly happy if I had one
of them for my very own. But, just as
I was all ready to put my hand upon it,
away it would fly! I tried until I was
utterly discouraged. But, by and by, the
birds got used to me, and would let me
come quite near; and one day I thought


of my sunbonnet for a trap, and I just
went along softly, and all at once I clapped
my big bonnet right over the cunningest
little bird you ever saw."
"And didn't he get away ? "
The boy's eagerness was running ahead
of grandma's tongue.
"No. I held him fast, and ran to
the house, showing my prize to every-
body. For two hours after I caught my
bird I amused myself with it, when all
of a sudden the cat sprang in at the
door, and in an instant had the dear little
bird in her mouth! I tell you, grandma
felt badly then! She chased that old
cat through the yard and into the garden,
and' away across the orchard; but when


she caught the naughty creature the poor
bird was dead! But I don't suppose the
old puss knew she was naughty, and
grandma learned something."
"And didn't 'oo ever tatch another ?"

asked Edward, not anxious for the les-
"No, I never tried again. I didn't
care to go out to the flax any more. And
I learned that God had made the birds to

take care of themselves. You see my
trying to take care of that little yellow
bird cost him his life "
"Yes," assented Edward, thoughtfully;
then, with sudden excitement in his voice,
"That was a naughty tat I wish 'you
had whipped her !"


Grandma was silent for a little while,
then she said, more to herself than to
the boy on her lap, "That was seventy
years ago!"
"Sev-en-ty years ago!" repeated Ed-
ward, slowly. For him the word seventy
had very little significance, the extent of
his knowledge of numbers being, "two,
free, seven, five, great much;" but he
repeated her last words, adding, with a
wondering look, "Was 'ou a little girl
hen "


"TELL me 'bout that picture," and
Jamie laid his chubby finger resolutely
upon the page, quite determined that no
more leaves should be turned, until the
little girl standing before the looking-
glass had been fully talked over.
So mamma began:
"Well, that is little Miss Muffet, the



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hI .!J uI

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same little lady who sat on a tuffet. Just
now she is standing upon one of the vel-
vet ottomans in Mrs. West's front parlor.
You see she is admiring her pretty face,
and her fine clothes. Well, that's no
wonder, for she never had a decently
clean face, or a decent thing to wear, in
all her life, until three weeks ago. She
lived in a dark, damp, dirty place down
in Fox Lane, with a wretched woman
who pretended to take care of her after
her mother died. But it was queer tak-
ing care of, and finally some good woman
found her and took her to an Orphans'
Home. Then Mrs. West came the very
next day, and wanted her for her own
little girl. This morning Muffet is all


,.':ssed up to go out with Mamma West.
I more than half suspect that she is not
sure that the little lady in the glass is
her own real self, though she perks her
head on one side, and says to herself,
'How nice I is!'
Mamma West, looking through a half-
open door, sees the little girl. Now, some
mammas would laugh at the silly child,
and say to Cousin Sarah: 'Do see the
comical little monkey! Did you ever see
such ridiculous airs! What an absurd
little snip she is! It is too funny!'
"Not so Mamma West. Going softly
over to Muffet, she said pleasantly, 'Well,
little one, what do you think of yourself?'
"' I sink I'se velly nice;' answered
Muffet, frankly.


"'So you are, my dear. You are very
nice, but what is it that rflakes you
nice?' asked Mamma West.
"'Why, my furls, and my fizzes, and
all the nice things,' said Muffet, hugging
and kissing the lady, who, taking the
little girl on her lap, said, No, my dear,
these things don't make you nice.' Then
drawing a handsome ring from her finger,
she let Muffet take it to play with.
Muffet slipped it upon first one little fat
finger, then upon another. Finally she
said: 'This is a nice ring, isn't it,
Mamma West?'
"'What makes it nice?' asked Mamma
West, smiling.
"'Why, don't you see? The date white


stone. It twinkles just like the stars do.'
"'Yes, my dear, I see. Now if there
was no stone there it would not be a
very handsome ring; or, if I should have
this taken out and a great, ugly, black
stone put in its place, it would spoil it.
Though the ring, itself, is very elegant,
it is the pure, sparkling diamond that
you admire. If that was lost, the ring
would be worth very little. Now, my
little one, I want you should be like
the diamond, pure and clear and spark-
"ling. If you let your heart get black
with being naughty, your pretty face
and fine clothes will not make people
love you. But if you let your light
shine, by being always gentle and obe-


dient, you may be glad and thankful for
the prettiness; only remember, that to be
pure in heart is the most important. Do
you understand me, Muffet?'
"''Es, ma'am,' said Muffet, meekly."
Mamma, I sink you'd better turn
over," said Jamie, lifting his finger from
the page with a sigh of relief, and
mamma thinks so. too.


I hated to write that title, "A School
Girls' Quarrel!" How shockingly bad it
sounds! But as things of that sort do
occasionally occur, perhaps it may not be
amiss to tell you of this one, that you
may see how they look on paper, and
how little they really amount to.
Clara and Nellie were the best of


friends -you know how much that means
to school girls and to these two it
meant all it ever implies. But for all
that, standing upon the steps one day,
I heard Nellie say:
I'll nev -er -speak to Cla ra-
again as long as I live I won't; she's
real hateful! Her voice was all choked
with sobs, and the words jerked them.
selves out with an effort. Other girls
were clustering around her with express.
sions of sympathy. One said:
"And such friends as you have always
been It is a shame!"
Another group -were on the croquet
ground. I could hear the striking of the
balls, and the merry chatter. Among


them was Clara, apparently oblivious of
the commotion. Presently, the game fin-
ished, she came around the corner, and
was exposed to the merciless fire of
angry tongues. Some sided one way and
some another, and out of the confusion
I could not decide what it was all
about. Just then the school bell rang,
and I decided that it was not time to
interfere. Nellie's tears were soon dried,
but I noticed that the two girls avoided
each other all that day. After school
Clara came to me, complaining that Nel.
lie would not speak to her,'and she did
not know what she had done. Then
calling Nellie, I set to work to get at
the bottom of the trouble- This was the


"Clara told Fannie not to let me take
the jumping rope. She said that Lucy
and I were neither to have it at all.
And I think, after the good friends we
have been, it was real mean."
"Well, Clara," I said, "that does look
badly. What is the explanation ? "
Nothing, only I asked Tom if we
"could take that rope, and he said we
might, if we would not let any one
else have it. I had been jumping and
got tired, when Alice wanted me to go
and play croquet, so I left the rope with
Fanny and Julia, and just then I saw
Nellie and Lucy coming up the walk,
and I said, 'Remember that the girls
can't take the rope.' I don't know why


Fannie didn't tell the reason. I suppose
Nellie thought that I didn't want her to
take it. But that was all the reason,
and I went off with Alice because I
didn't want to stay and jump the rope
when Nellie couldn't. And I don't see
as I am to blame."
Not much, according to that story,"
I said; "just a little. You ought to have
made it all right by waiting until Nel.
lie came, and explaining the matter to
"But she ought to know that I like
her, and wouldn't be hateful to her on
purpose," persisted Clara; and I think
she was right about that. Two girls
who love each other will surely trust


each other. It causes a great deal of
trouble between schoolmates when they
grow to be suspicious and watchful for
Presently I said, "Well, girls, it seems
to me that this trouble does not amount
to much after all. Don't you think the
better way is to let it all go, and just
be friends again?"
"I'm sure," sobbed Nellie, I wouldn't
have blamed Clara if I had known just
how it was. But it sounded -awful when
Fannie said it. It was just as if they
didn't want me to have any good times."
"And I didn't mean anything like
that at all. I'm sorry. I suppose I
ought to have been more careful, but


truly, I never thought of hurting her
And so they "made up" then and
there. But they had both spent a most
miserable day. Silly? Well, I think so
myself, and I never knew of a school
girls' quarrel that amounted to any more
than this one, though sometimes they
are not so easily made up.
Now, girls, I do not think these little
"tiffs" are good for you. They do not
help in forming a beautiful and symmet-
rical character. The timid, sensitive girl
shrinks more and more away from her
mates, until she grows to dread coming
in contact with them, while in the strong,
self-reliant nature an over-bearing spirit


is fostered. Let the spirit of love pre-

vail upon the play-ground and in the

school-room, and then shall you, one and

all, grow day by day unto a perfect





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