Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 A country boy's centennial
 "Little Buttons"
 Back Cover

Group Title: country boy's Centennial and "Little buttons"
Title: A country boy's Centennial and "Little buttons"
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00078888/00001
 Material Information
Title: A country boy's Centennial and "Little buttons"
Alternate Title: Little Buttons the bell boy & Country boy's Centennial
Physical Description: 71 p. : ill. ; 25 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Osborne, S. McAllester
Belford Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Belford Company
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1890
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Parades -- Juvenile fiction -- New York (State) -- New York   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Centennial celebrations, etc -- Juvenile fiction -- New York (N.Y.)   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1890   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1890   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre: Children's stories
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by S. McAllester Osborne ; with illustrations.
General Note: "Publisher's of Belford's Magazine"--t.p.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00078888
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002224404
notis - ALG4668
oclc - 83641461

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
    Half Title
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    A country boy's centennial
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    "Little Buttons"
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



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[Publishers of Belford's Magazine]




IT was the noon recess at the district school near Littledale.
Fired with the all-pervading enthusiasm, the boys were discussing
the prospective Centennial
celebration as they munched
their luncheons. They took (-"
in draughts of patriotism
just as they absorbed their ,
doughnuts, pie, and pickles -
-in large instalments, di- -
gesting them at leisure. soME mLNC.
To their unsophisticated
fancy New York always had seemed one continuous festival; and
now !-why, the Arabian Nights were not to be compared to it !
Joe Bell had gleaned an astounding bit of information the even-
ing before at the village store, which he sprung upon his compan-
ions as he dived after a big sandwich at the bottom of his dinner
Say, boys, their's ez many 'n th' Centenyul Cummitty 's th'
hull 'nhab'tants o' Littledale !"
Then Jimmy Tolles importantly announced that his Aunt Delia
was going to witness the great parade, and the boys gazed at him
respectfully, in the light of a reflected glory.


Hm! I c'd go with th' money I've earned doin' o' urrans 'f I
was jes' fool 'nuf t' spend it said Ralph Close, the miser as the
boys had dubbed him.
How much ye got?" asked one of them.
Mos' five an' a haf!" replied Ralph, proudly.
They all shouted in derision: Ho! five dollars fer t' go t'
that there Centenyul?" scornfully queried Billy Stokes. "It costs
more 'n that jes' t' git there, an' then what ye goin' t' do?"


Tom Dicksie, not to be left behind in the general contribution
of wisdom, sagely added:
Jes' t' live there one day costs more 'n t' live 'n Littledale a
hull year. Don't it, Billy ?"
"Rats !" ejaculated Ralph, his mouth like an exaggerated excla-
mation-point from the lavish consumption of canned blackberry-pie.
The other boys looked at Tom doubtingly, but could not deny
his statement. He had a cousin living in New York, and he must


Larry Elting had not laughed with the rest at Ralph's assulnp-
tion. His dinner-pail stood untouched, and he gazed enviously at
him. His hands were crammed into his pockets without a penny,
his hat on the back of his head, his cheeks like peonies, and his eyes
two stars burning steely blue in their intensity.
We'll, now, boys, he could mos' go fer that !" he said excitedly.


" Th' railroad's fixed it so 't only costs as much t' go and back as 't
usually does jes' t' go !"
"Yes, sir!" chimed in Joe Bell, I heard father say las' night
nobody c'd ever 'spect to go any cheaper 'n now."
Oh sho !" persisted Billy Stokes, great old racket ye'd hey
there on five dollars !"
Wal, now, a'n't the Committy goin' to see 't everybody's taken
care of ?" knowingly spoke up Ralph to prove how well he under-
stood what he was talking about.


So there, you fellahs what think ye'r' so all-killin' smart !"
The Centennial newsmongers were waxing pretty warm in their
debate, and very likely might have had a lively tussle over it if they
had not just then been summoned to assemble again in their seats.
That evening Larry listened more eagerly than ever, as his father
read aloud, the concluding ar-
S' rangements for the comfort of
,visitors at the coming jubilee.
ciy- After he went to bed he tried
& / 1 A to imagine what New York
If. could be like, with flags flying
Everywhere, and every one pre-
Sr / paring to enjoy himself.
t .When at last he fell asleep,
jW he dreamed of marching at the
) head of a long file of soldiers
o and carrying a great drum, that
S tired him so it kept slipping
from his grasp. Finally down
it fell, and he rolled over it.
He woke to find he had
thrashed about until his pillow
had tumbled off the bed and he
after it. He crept back rather
crestfallen, and heard his mother
LARRY'S DREAM. say in the next room,
"That child is dreamin', I
guess. I hear 'im mutterin' and bangin' round. He mus'n't set
up so late again listening' to news 'bout th' Centenyul."

At the breakfast-table next morning, as Mr. Elting passed


his cup for a second supply of his wife's delicious coffee, he almost
startled her into dropping it by saying,
"Prud'nce, I guess we mus' take in th' Centenyul."
Oh, John !" was all that Mrs. Elting could ejaculate in her de-
lighted surprise. She had wanted to go so badly, but had heroically
kept it to herself, knowing how hard every dollar was earned on the
not over-prolific farm.
."Wal," continued her husband, "we've wo'ked mighty hard,

C .


Prudy, t' pay off th' mor'gidge on the old farm, 'n we've earned this
little hollyday, I think. On'y a hundred dollars more, an' we're out
o' debt, Prudy !" His face was alight with the anticipation.
"John, I'm willing' t' wait fer my new dress till fall, if I c'n on'y
see th' Centenyul!" cheerily answered the helpful wife.
Mebby ye won't hev to, Prudy; I made a p'rtty fair sale o'
them yearlins yestady !" And the hard-working farmer wagged his
head sagely.
I wish 't I c'd take ye too, son," said his father, turning to
where the boy sat dazed with the sudden announcement.
He had never once dreamed of such a thing as his father and


mother undertaking so expensive an outing. From his babyhood,
he had learned the value of a square dollar," in the patient econo-
mies of the little household. This had given the air of comfort and
thrift to the snug home, but left little chance for indulgences.
Yes, I re'ly wish 't I c'd take ye," wistfully repeated Mr.
Elting. Ef 't wa'n't fer th' mor'gidge, son, I'd do it; but father
dasn't spend too much, ye know."
The quick eyes of the mother saw too big drops ready to tumble
over Larry's rosy cheeks. She bustled about, chatting and occupy-


ing Mr. Elting's attention until the boy could recover himself. She
knew he was manly enough to do it when the first excitement of
the idea should have passed.

THE night before the 27th, Larry hung about his mother until
she almost regretted she had made her plans to go. As he was
about to kiss her good-night, she said, Larry, my boy, what sh'll
father 'n' I bring ye from New York ?"


Larry's face grew very red as he said, If you an' father don't
mind, I'd rather have th' money you'd put into anything fer
"That's sensible," said Mr. Elting, with a pleased look. Mother,
s'pose we jes' make it a dollar fer ev'ry day we're gone. How's that,
Larry ?"
Firs' rate !" answered Larry, brightly.
Lem'me see," mused his father; "we'll get home Thursday
night "-and he counted
six one-dollar bills into
Larry's hand, feeling that
he was doing a generous
thing for his means.
Larry's eyes fairly V 1
danced, and kissing them
each extry for thanks," -
he went to bed.
The next morning
early, though it rained, he
saw them off, and looked
so contented and happy, "
they enjoyed their journey
much better for the re-
Aunt Sophy Giles, as
all the children thereabouts called her, had been duly installed to
keep house and look after Larry's comfort, so everything moved
on as regularly as usual. Larry ran about all day, it being Saturday
and therefore a school holiday.
He and Ralph Close held a mysterious consultation during the
morning. Aunt Sophy saw them in the yard together, and went on
about her work, wheezily singing 0 Columby, th' jam of th'


o-shin in a disjointed monotone, as her active movements with
broom and duster took her breath at intervals.
All right fer you !" was Larry's parting reply to Ralph's em-
No sirce I ain't goin' t' do no such fool thing ez that-I ruther
hev th' money!"


Then Larry trudged off in the opposite direction from Ralph,
through mud and rain, a long mile, to Mr. Butler's barn on the hill,
where he knew he should find the hostler.
Mr. Butler was the rich man of the district, and owned a good
many horses and dogs. Larry's visit here put him in high spirits.
After his interview with Jenks the hostler he ran for home, leaping
puddles and shouting lustily,
Three cheers fer th' Red, White, an' Blue!"
Aunt Sophy had missed him and felt a little uneasy. She and
Jumbo, the great Maltese cat were watching from the kitchen win-
dow as he came down the road, a vital embodiment of jubilant
Young America.
How full of th' Centenyul th' little feller is!" ejaculated she
quite confidentially to Jumbo, stroking his back affectionately. Her


good-natured sympathy was in about equal proportion for boys and
well-behaved cats.
Meow !" meekly responded Jumbo in a rather weak, cracked

--- -- ----


voice for so fine a physique. He never took his big amber eyes
away from the jolly little figure taking a handspring over the fence,
instead of walking easily in through the open gateway. Jumbo un-
derstood his young master's moods. He remembered mornings
when he had felt more like scrambling up tree-trunks than sitting
in dignified quiet by the window, as now in his old age. He rubbed
his head lovingly against Larry when he entered, and waved his
beautiful tail majestically in the air, as if to say,
I was once young !"
It rained so hard the following morning, Aunt Sophy and
Larry did not go to church. Larry usually rode there with his



father and mother, and stayed for Sunday-school afterwards. The
two-mile walk home in pleasant weather suited him better than rid-
He prowled about the house all day restless and uneasy. Aunt
Sophy feared from his flushed face and poor appetite that he had
taken cold.
Larry, ye shouldn't a run roun' all day yistady in th' splosh,"
she said apprehensively. I
Guess I better make ye some
pennyrile tea."
/ But Larry laughed merrily,
s -- saying he wasn't hankerin' fer
pennyrile tea.'
S/ After the four-o'clock Sun-
S day dinner he tried to settle
2 down and read his last Sunday-
lschool book; but do what he
would, he could see nothing
JUMBO. but star.spangled banners, and
uniformed men marching to
the exhilarating music of bands that repeated over and over the
national airs.
So at early dusk he announced that he was so awful sleepy he,
guessed he'd better go to bed."
Then he loitered about a little, and finally surprised Aunt Sophy
by stealing up behind her and dashing a little kiss at her cheek.
"Bless your dear little heart!" she exclaimed, touched by the
caress. What a splendid report I sh'll hev to give yer ma. The
time'll soon pass now," the good woman added encouragingly, know-
ing that bedtime is the-hour when absent mothers are most longed
There was little to hurry her in the morning, and when at early


dawn she heard the distant rumble of the swift express she settled
herself for another nap.
When she arose, she prepared breakfast before calling Larry,
thinking the sound sleep of childhood should not be disturbed.
After indulgently waiting his appearance until she feared he would
be late at school, there being no vacation excepting over Tuesday

/- 11


the 30th, she knocked loudly on his door, and receiving no answer,
she opened it.
The bed had been occupied, but the occupant had vanished.
Frightened at first, she soon began in her practical way to reason it
He's gone to see some o' th' boys 'fore school-time. Land
sake they're all so interested in this 'ere celebration bizness, likely
their' all agoin' to march or sumthin'."
So she ate her breakfast, expecting every minute to see him en-
ter; but school-time came and passed and no Larry. She did up
the morning's work and still he did not come.


Then she grew anxious and started out in pursuit of him.
No one, however, could give her any clue to his whereabouts,
until she met Ralph Close.
Why, I'll bet he's gone t' th' Centenyul, that's where he is !"
said Ralph. He told her about Larry's coming to him the day be-
fore, and offering his beautiful new sled and skates of the winter
before for the five dollars Ralph had boasted of that day last week
at school.
Well, he's got the money somehow, an' honest too, I'll warrant
ye," exclaimed the excited woman, if ye wuiz too stingy to let him
have it !"
She reproached herself as she plodded home, worried and anx-
I shouldn't orter a said that t' Ralph, but Larry's wuth two


o' him any day. I wasn't upholdin' Larry, but deary me! his
father' kep' a reading' 'bout th' Centenyul to him, an' who c'n blame
him ? I'll bet he'll come out all right. But my! what will his
mother say to me fer bein' so slack?"

Meanwhile Larry was speeding along toward the desired haven,
and was making himself very comfortable.
The hostler on Butler Hill had given him five dollars for his


setter puppy, and he felt like a young millionaire. Every one on
the train seemed to be bound for the same goal, so he had no ap-
prehensions whatever but that he should get along all right.
He had prepared a lunch of doughnuts and cheese and a bottle
of milk the day before while Aunt Sophy was occupied in getting
dinner. He had also the forethought to put in his bundle a supply
of collars, handkerchiefs, and underwear, in which his thrifty
mother had always trained him to be particular.
Growing more and more exultant as he neared New York, he


seemed so utterly void of care or anxiety that no one questioned
him as to his being alone, supposing he was expecting friends to
meet him at the depot.
He shared his lunch lavishly with a hungry-looking little girl
sitting opposite him, and felt as happy as a king. When the train
arrived, it was every one for himself, and, entirely unnoticed, he
passed out.


He followed the crowd until it seemed to him he had walked
miles, and still the people were surging in a mass toward some
special point, he thought. He tried to keep his eye on some of his
fellow-passengers, but some-
how one after another of
-L them dropped out of sight.
It was getting toward
I night, and his first misgiving
Same to him when he began
to realize that he did not
know where he was going to
spend it. He kept looking
for some of the places where
strangers were to be pro-
vided for. The houses all
looked so shut up and pretty
much alike, and no signs
anywhere announcing any
Centennial accommoda-
tions. Inquire within," as he
had imagined there would
S"'\ be. Or else he fancied some
Sone would be stationed at
Frequent intervals along the
S-street, and would point out
the havens of refreshment
and rest for visitors to the
He had heard, too, so much of New York stores and their fine
display of goods in the windows ; why, he could scarcely see any-
thing but bunting, and then his heart swelled and he felt like sing-
ing again, as he had day after day at home, The Star-Spangul


Banner," forgetting for the time that he was alone in a great big
As it grew duskish, he watched a man that ran along from one
street-lamp to another, lifting a slide with his long stick, and pop!
up went the light, and he ran on to the next one, and so out of
He was getting dreadfully tired, but he braced up bravely, and
just then saw a colored lantern
hanging over a door that stood
wide open.
As he stepped in, a burly man
with big brass buttons came from
an inner room.
Hello, little fellah!" he ex-
claimed, who are you looking
I'm looking' fer th' cummitty
o' 'rangements that takes care o'
people who've cum to th' cel'bra-
tion," answered Larry.
Are you one of 'em an' can
you take care o' me?"
What! you've come to the
Centennial alone, eh ?" questioned 'r,. co.
the big policeman, looking down
compassionately at the tired little face before him.
Ye-es, sir," timidly answered Larry, beginning to feel what a
daring thing he had undertaken.
My father and mother come las' Saturday; mcbby you can
tell me where they're stayin.' "
Whew !" whistled the big man, taking in the situation.


No, I can't do that; but I guess we can take care of you, lit-
tle chap," he kindly said.
What hotel is this, and how much does it cost to stay here ?"
hesitatingly inquired poor Larry, his mind reverting to Tom Dick-
sie's assertion about the expense.
Oh, we charge according to the wealth of the party wanting
accommodations," he said, as he winked at another man dressed
exactly like him. When he saw Larry's downcast expression he
said gayly,
"Our charges will be small for such a small traveller. Lay down
your bundle, go and wash up a little, and then come out with
me. I'm going to my supper, and I do not like to eat alone."
Larry felt as courageous as ever, now that he was sure of a rest-
ing-place and something to eat.
He enjoyed his warm supper at the restaurant near by, and af-
terward the policeman took him to
the door, saw him go inside, and then
went on his beat.
S The other one had a bed ready
S,' I / for him and advised him to retire
S early, so as to get well rested for the
Next day's exciting programme.
SLarry felt rather homesick as he
undressed in this strange place and
LARRY DREAMING. thought of 'his parents being un-
conscious of his presence in this
immense city; yet he knelt and said his little prayer with a sooth-
ing sense of having found the kindest of friends. And so he rested
well. The Power ever watching over the helpless and innocent had
guided him to a safe refuge. So far in his rash venture he had es-
caped unharmed, and he slept the calm sleep of trusting childhood.
When he first woke in the morning he felt startled at his sur-


roundings ; for this time he had been dreaming he was at home and
was trying to scrape up a lot of money from the barn floor, but it
slid back again faster than he could gather it.
He sat up and stared about him for a few moments, and then he
suddenly remembered his adventurous journey.
His new friend took him out to breakfast, and then Larry said
he would like to walk on a little ways and see the sights." The
policeman had seen how bright and ready Larry was, for all his ig
norance of the city, so he took him along with him, talking as they
went, and giving him points by which to find his way if he got
separated from him.
Yes, sir, I s'pose you're very busy takin' care o' people, if you're
one o' th' committy," said Larry, earnestly.
The policeman smiled broadly and said,
I'm taking care of people all the year round, Johnny."
Larry you mean, I guess," laughed Larry.
Oh, we policemen call all youngsters Johnnies," he answered.
Oh-h !" said Larry, stopping short and looking at him. Are
you a cop' ? I allus thought I sh'd be afraid of a cop,' but I
ain't a bit !"
"Police police !" came a sudden cry from across the street.
Some scrimmage was going on, and away ran Larry's friend, saying
as he went,
Take care of yourself, Johnny."
The music of different bands began to reach Larry as he strolled
along trying to keep track of the policeman. But soon he forgot
him in watching the crowd gathering so rapidly, and wondered if he
would meet his father and mother.
How glad he would be to see them And he knew they would
feel glad he was here when they got over the first surprise.
He had now walked some ways, and it was getting hard work to
walk with any comfort. The mass of people had packed closely


out to the edge of the curbstones, and he, being small, could not see
anything if the procession came along.
There were some ladies sitting on a balcony, and Larry ventured
to go up the steps a little ways until he could see over the heads


of the crowd. But a pompous-looking man stood at the door, and
said to him,
Young man, get off those steps; you can't stand there."
Larry's spirits fell at this. Then he should not see the grand
procession after all!
He walked on, wishing he might find the seats his father read


about-seats that the Mayor had saved for women and children that
couldn't pay for them.
Those must be the ones that I see below here," thought poor
Larry. So he started on, but found he could not get up on those
at all without a ticket.
How much ?" he asked.
"Three dollars," was the reply.
Why, he only had four dollars besides his railroad ticket! He
began to think it took a lot of money after all to get through the
Centennial and see anything.
The crowd was so dense right near the seats, he found it easier
to turn and go back. He looked up wistfully at the balcony where
the ladies sat, and began to feel pretty dismal, when he heard a
lady's kind voice say,
Oh, Roberts, let that poor child come up here. He is a stran-
ger, and all alone apparently, and he will not take up much room."
So Roberts beckoned to him, and Larry's face brightened. The
ladies said to their hostess,
What a keen-eyed little fellow !" and began asking him how
he came to be alone.
He frankly told them the whole story; and when he got to where
he sold the setter puppy for five dollars, they all burst out laughing
but the lady of the house. She drew him to her side, saying,
You poor child !" and told him if the hostler would give up
the dog she would pay twenty-five dollars for him.
I'm mos' sure he'll give him back t' me 'f I 'low him seven or
eight dollars fer him, 'stead o' five," shrewdly replied Larry. At
which they all laughed again and said he was going to make a good
financier. Larry scarcely understood what they meant by that, but
he thought it must be something about making money.
What will your mother and father say when they find what a
risky thing you have done ?" asked Mrs. Remsen of Larry.


" Little lost boys are advertised for very often," she said seriously,
trying to make him realize what a dangerous thing he had
Yes, I've heard my father read 'bout it in the newspapers; but
after all, I think they'll be kind o' glad I saw it, when I get home all
right, 'cause father said-" He stopped, thinking perhaps he
ought not to tell what his father said about the mortgage among so
many people.
Mrs. Remsen called him to her, and he finished in a low tone:
Father said that he'd bring me too, on'y fer th' morgidge."
Then she questioned him about it, until the patient, self-denying
lives of these people, as compared with her own easy self-indulgence,
touched her deeply. She told him how glad she was he had fallen
into her hands; she would see that he was at least started for home
all right, but he must promise never to do such a thing again.
Oh no, ma'am. I wouldn't 'a' done it now, on'y it bein' th'
very on'y one there'll ever be in my life, I could' bear t' think I
shouldn't see it," he said, so earnestly that Mrs. Remsen hardly
felt like laughing.
Poor child he felt like many of his elders, I expect," said one
of the ladies.
Fortunately you have been taken care of, Larry," said Mrs.
Remsen, smiling pleasantly as she saw the rather depressed expres-
sion on Larry's face, evoked by the full realization of his adventure.
Yes'm; everybody has been awful good to me," said Larry.
" I think New York folks are jes' splendid !"
Well, now enjoy it all: here comes the procession," she said
His head fairly spun around at the sight. He had not imagined
it half so magnificent or so long.
What a lot of fine policemen! Oh my !" he exclaimed, clap-
ping his hands and waving his hat merrily. Oh, ain't I glad I'm


here !" he kept saying, until Mrs. Remsen and all the ladies enjoyed
his delight even more than the grand parade.
The soldiers and knights with waving plumes and gay armor,
seated on prancing steeds, made him think of a story in the district
library, Prince Ulma and his Courtiers."

[i ', I ,L, > '"
C '%1,,


"Won't the boys be surprised !" he kept thinking between
At two o'clock a luncheon was served to the ladies where they
sat, so they need not miss any part of the procession, and Larry was
invitated to share with them. Crystal and flowers, and delicious
food unlike anything he had ever seen or tasted before; the ser-
vants waiting upon him as if he were a little prince. It seemed to
him as if he had been set down in fairyland.


He could not eat much, however, he was so taken up with the
passing pageant. On and on, like the billows of the sea he had once
seen, the lines of men marched by until his head fairly swam.
Home seemed like a dream far away in the past. When, after


hours of this ceaseless tramp, tramp, tramp, the last line passed
and the crowd began to scatter, Larry sat leaning forward, still in
just the same position, with his head a little bent. Mrs. Remsen
called him as the ladies prepared to go, but he made no answer.


Just as the long procession had come to an end he had fallen
asleep tired out with the unwonted excitement.
Mrs. Remsen had Roberts take him to see the fireworks in the
evening, and when they came home he was put into a pretty room
for the night. Here he found the little bundle he had left at the
police station, Roberts having learned from his description where it
was, and one of the servants sent to bring it told the policemen
that Larry was safe and well cared for.
Larry hoped, as he fell asleep, that his father and mother were
having as good a time as he.
After breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Remsen sewed the
number of her house on the inside of his coat-collar, and then she
told him, if he wanted to take a run and should get strayed away
so far as not to know where he was, any policeman he met would
direct him by that.
This pleased him immensely, as he had gained confidence by
his unusually fortunate experience.
He found bodies of men forming in the side streets, preparatory
to taking their places in the procession.
The street was fully as crowded as the day before, but he was
getting accustomed to that. As he passed a corner, one of these
organizations was about to start into the line, but one of the boys
that held the cords of the beautiful great silk banner had disap-
The order came to fall into line, and they had to start at once.
Larry, hearing the inquiry for the missing boy, said quickly,
Won't I do ?"
"Yes, take hold there, quick, if you're a good walker," said the
man, holding the fly-staff, and off they started.
The band struck up, and Larry's heart swelled jubilantly as he
realized that he was actually taking part in the great Centennial
procession !


He could hardly keep from dancing in his delight; but he
marched soberly along, the crowd cheering, ladies waving their
handkerchiefs, and his brain in a mad whirl of excitement.




MR. AND MRS. ELTING were enjoying their outing immensely.
They had secured seats for both days' parade, and the only draw-
back to their pleasure was the thought of poor Larry at home while
they were having this great treat.


When they saw the boys that were dispersed through the ranks,
taking part in the second day's procession, they thought about him
all the more; and as one splendid body of men swept past, Mrs.
Elting eagerly grasped her husband's arm.


Didn't that little fellow look for all the world like Larry?"
she excitedly exclaimed.
"Where? I didn't notice him," answered Mr. EIting, who was
much slower of observation than his wife.
Why, carrying one of the ropes of that big blue flag," said the
mother. "It looked so much like him it almost makes me home-
Oh, don't worry, mother," said Mr. Elting; he's havin' a good
time with that six dollars, you may be sure."
And indeed he was! Parading down Fifth Avenue amid the
blare of trumpets and gilded splendor that nearly turned his head.
"What would Joe Bell say if he could see me ?"
Won't Ralph be mad to think he didn't come too !" And so
kept running his self-gratulations.
He grew pretty tired, but he was used to tramping over the
farm all day long on pleasant Saturdays, when there was no school;
so he held out manfully to the end.
When the company of men he was with got back to their place
for disbanding, they had time to wonder who he was; and as he told
his story they laughed among themselves and said,
"What a plucky little chap! He's a good one; let's give him
something." So they offered him ten dollars. But Larry straight-
ened up and said,
Ho! I guess I wouldn't take pay for marchin' at the 'Cen-
tinyul-not much !"
This sturdy independence and patriotism pleased them all the
more, and they insisted he should take it and buy something for
his mother as a souvenir of the Centennial.
This touched his heart in the right place, and he accepted it with
many thanks.
Then he showed them the number sewed inside his collar, and


one of them went with him to the corner of the street nearest Mrs.
Remsen's house, and pointed it out to him.
His kind hostess was that moment worrying about his pro-
longed absence.
He'll turn up all right, ma'am," said Roberts, confidently.
Just then the bell rung, and sure enough, there stood Larry,
dusty and tired-looking, yet his blue eyes were alight with the fire
of enthusiasm.
"So here you are, little fellow. Did you have a good place to
see the procession ?" asked Roberts.
H'm! better'n that-I marched in it!" announced Larry,
Roberts lost his usual demeanor of pompous dignity and went
into convulsions of laughter.
"You'll do!" said he. If you haven't taken in the Centennial
celebration, I do not know who has!"
Mrs. Remsen had a good laugh, too, when she heard Larry re-
count his experience. She had one of the servants give him a nice
warm bath and rub him well, then put him to bed to have a good
rest, so he would not be lame after his long march. She then sent
a tray up to his room with a delicious dinner which he fully appre-
A band was performing its evening programme a short distance
away, and Larry listened in blissful content, until his tired eyes
closed in the silence of dreamland.

I d'clare it seems mos' a month since I saw father and mother,"
thought Larry, the next, morning, as he lay waiting to be called,
according to instructions. He longed to tell them everything he
had seen.
Goody gracious, what a tramp that was!" he said, stretching
himself lazily. New York's a stunning' big town."


Indeed he felt quite ,. ;Il;ii to rest, although he knew he must
go home that day. He told Mrs. Remsen about the present he
wanted to get for his mother. She took him in her carriage to a
prominent store; and as they drove down Broadway, Larry had a
chance to see the decorations, and the store-windows he could not
find in his ramble the night of his arrival.
Mrs. Remsen selected a beautiful dress-pattern which would be
suitable for the country, and which cost more than the ten dollars
that Larry thought purchased it.
Out of all the beautiful things about him, she told him to, choose
a souvenir of the Centennial for himself.
His eyes had been fixed wistfully on a picture of George Wash-
ington, and then they wandered hesitatingly until they rested on a
beautiful flag that hung just above the counter. She was watching
him, and seeing his perplexed look, purchased both and said,
"Tell your father he should be proud of such a patriotic boy."
There were toys and baubles of all kinds about, but she saw noth-
ing pleased him so much as something connected with the Centen-
nial. He selected a pretty chintz dress for Aunt Sophy; and
then strapping all together, they started for the depot, to be in
time for the train on which Larry thought his father and mother
intended returning. But they did not find them. So Mrs. Remsen
saw him seated comfortably in the car, with a nice lunch she had
Roberts prepare for him to eat on the way; and exacting a promise
from him to write her when he got home, she kissed his rosy face
"I never had such a good time in my life, Mis' Remsen. I'd
like to kiss you once more," said Larry, shyly.
She laughed and graciously stooped, Larry giving her a hearty
hug and kiss.
I'm so glad, Larry, that you have enjoyed yourself," said the
kind and generous woman, who had no children of her own and had


taken a strong liking to the little visitor. I shall remember your
invitation to Littledale; you may see me there this coming sum-


Oh, I do hope we will!" said Larry, delightedly. She kissed
him warmly yet again, and then Larry watched her get into her
carriage and, waving her hand to him, drive off.


"My! what a lovely lady she is!" thought the grateful little
fellow as she passed out of sight.
Now came a reaction from all the excitement he had gone
through. He choked a little and began to feel homesick enough.
At the firststopping-place he went through the cars again, hoping
he might still find his father and mother. As he entered the last


car, which had been put on after he had got in, he heard a startled
cry-" Larry !"
There was his mother with outstretched hands and pale face
as she recognized her boy making his way through the car alone.
"Why, my child Where have you been ?"


Larry, boy, how came you here ?" burst from his parents' lips
at the same time.
Then Larry related all; how that had been his idea in asking
for the money instead of anything they could buy for him in New
I know wasn'tt right, mother," said Larry, but I did feel
's if I couldn't stan' it t' stay home when I c'd never see another.
And oh, mother, Imarckedin t/heprocession!" he closed triumphantly.
Mother-like, her first thought was of the danger and risk
attending his escapade, and she could not keep from crying. Only
to think that while they thought him safe in his country home, he
was taking his chances in the big, bewildering city!
And then she suddenly began laughing almost hysterically, as


she thought of him trudging down Broadway as sturdily as any of
She was satisfied now that it was him she saw, when Mr. Elting


tried to persuade her she was mistaken in the resemblance to Larry
of the boy in the procession.
Well, he was here, thank God, safe and sound !
But, Larry, how can father and mother trust you, my son,
after this?" she said in a grieved tone that touched Larrry to the
Why, mother, I'd never think o' doin' so agin. This was
extry, don't you see ?" He was so evidently sincere in his inten-
tions, she had to take his assurances in good faith and believe it was
only the stress of the present crisis that led him to do such a haz-
ardous thing and without their consent or knowledge.
As he went on excitedly telling of his good fortune, and all the
kindness he met with, Larry's parents grew proud and pleased at
their boy's faculty for making friends.
He went to get a drink for his mother, and Mr. Elting said to
his wife,
I hain't the heart to scold him, Prudy, fer to tell the truth,
I'm downright glad he saw th' Centenyul. He's got something' in
him that'll make more 'f a man 'f him th'n his father is, Prudy.'
And Mr. Elting furtively wiped away a tear.
I hope he'll make as honest and stiddy a one, John," was Mrs.
Elting's wifely answer, at which her husband looked pleased and
"Ye allus will stick up fer me, Prudy, 'fore ev'n Larry!" he
responded, looking at her fondly, and carrying the same look in
his eyes as he turned toward Larry handing his mother the glass
of water.
Wal, son, we'll have plenty to talk over when we git home,
won't we ?" he said with a tender ring in his voice.
"Yes, sir! replied Larry, earnestly. An' I'll never, never go
off again that way alone, father," he whispered, slipping his arm


about his father's neck, as he felt how lenient he was toward him
after all his rashness.
The following letter received by Mrs. Remsen in a few days,
taxed her ingenuity somewhat to read it, but the grateful spirit
beneath the misspelled words she fully appreciated:

Hear I am ol rite an th bois ol wish tha hed gon tu. Muther
sais yure th mos kine genrus an luvly tru lady she ever herd uv.
When mi father foun th paper pind onte th flag wuz tu pay
of the mortgidge he jes cride an so did Muther tu. An then I
cride tu caus they did. Fother sed to me th' Lorde sent yu sun to
the Sentenyul Im shure an I ges he did tu an yu ar his angle.
Th horsler ony tuke th 5 dollars back fer Wash. [Ive named

im Gorge Washontun] he sais yu ot tu hev im an I think so tu.
He goze by xpres tu day an pleze xcep im frum me ez a prezunt.
I fele orful sory I diden bid mi kine fren th policeman gude by
but I wuz so tyred I fergot it.
Pleze giv mi bes respecs tu Mister Robers an ask im tu thank
im fer me.


Gude by dere Mis Remsing I shel nevur fergit how gude yu
was tu me.
Yure grateful fren

P. S. Im rele plezed tu hev Wash gro inte a grate big Nu
Yorke daug, coz its a firsrate plais fer fun. L E

P. S. 2 I shel allus be glad I went tu th Sentenyul an so's
father an muther. L ELTING

P. S. 3 Muther sais du cum hear it's rele plezunt 'n th' summer.
Youres truely.

Z! r&~jbl




R-RR-R-R-R! sharply rang the door-bell of the The Grosvenor."
A brief pause and again it whirred yet more loudly; and a third
time it began its importunate din, till every one in the house im-
patiently ejaculated, Where is Thomas ?" Then the door opened
and shut with a clang, and there was loud talking in the hall.
Mrs. Leo Hunt had been caught out in a driving storm without
an umbrella, much to the detriment of her fine new tailor-made
suit. She had found the vestibule door closed, and was kept stand-
ing fully five minutes at her own threshold before being let in.
Who could blame her for forgetting to maintain the calm indiffer-
ence upon which she always prided herself?
The Grosvenor had not always been so pretentious a dwell-
ing-place as now. It first had the' tiresome patent door-openers
and man-of-all-work; but apartments more convenient. and elegant
had sprung up here and there, and the owner had found that he
was losing many of his best tenants.
After due deliberation a small army of workmen were called in,
and the result was something like a butterfly emerging from a
chrysalis. Stucco, stained glass, tiling, and all the et cetera of


modern embellishment worked a wondrous change; and it shone
quite resplendent amid its aristocratic neighbors, and blossomed
into an attractive apartment-house, bearing its owner's name.
As it filled with desirable occupants, and its increased rental
came rolling in with gratifying regularity, he felt that he had done
a wise thing, and soon started off on a long projected trip to
For a time matters moved quite smoothly at the Grosvenor, but
the inevitable hitch came. As the agent had often remarked to the
landlord, Tenants never air satisfied ;" and just as often to the
tenants he said, Landlords allus iconomize in the wrong place."
So it proved in the present instance. Thomas had tried in vain to
double and quadruple himself, so as to be everywhere at once; but
with the manipulation of the new elevator, and other duties attend-
ing the management of a fine establishment, he could not always
promptly be on duty at the door.
For some time there had been murmurings in the air, and now
the storm had burst inside as well as out. That five minutes' tardi-
ness of poor Thomas was made responsible for the terrible drench-
ing of Mrs. Leo Hunt.
You shall be reported to Mr. Blake, Thomas," she bitterly
exclaimed, as she surveyed herself in the mirror, bedraggled and
Indade I couldn't help it, mum," feebly protested Thomas,
" I was-"
"No matter where you were," she cut in sharply, so long as
you were not at the door. Just look at me," she said, in injured
appeal, as she took in the fact that the beautiful green feather that
waved so majestically from her crest as she started out now lay
flattened over her forehead-a bang of most unbecoming cut
and color!
It was useless to attempt any explanation, so Thomas beat a


hasty retreat, divided between an inclination to laugh and a resolve
to get the start and make his own plea first to the agent.
It was simply impossible to perform all that was expected of
him, yet the house-agent felt that he was too honest and faithful a
man to lose, notwithstanding the
complaints that now poured in from
every side.
Mrs. Dowell had lost a most "
desirable new acquaintance, because,
after repeated ringing in vain, she
had gone away disgusted and had
made it known to a friend of Mrs.
Dowell, who, of course, told her of
Mr. Graham had lost the manage-
ment of an important lawsuit, from
the client failing to get admission ;
according to appointment with him
one evening. --
Mrs. Fields could not display \ l
her rich new gown at the great ball THOMAS, THE JANITOR.
of the season, because of a severe
cold contracted by standing on her own doorstep so long one bitter
cold day. And so the changes were rung with tedious iteration.
Besieged from every quarter, and the owner away, the agent at
last thought of an expedient that would not add materially to the
A small boy in buttons is the very thing," he said. Why
haven't I thought of that before?" and he began rummaging
among his papers for an address.
A very small boy had come into his office some time before and
asked him if he knew any one who had any use for a boy of his


size, and the agent had smiled grimly and said he thought not,
but promised to inquire.
I had forgotten all about the poor little chap," he said, and
now I will go and hunt him
/ up." He found him after
/ some trouble, glad enough to
secure a good home, and
pleased at the idea of wearing
a nicely fitting cloth suit with
rows of bright buttons. Ac-
cordingly, with but short delay,
/ // behold the new bell-boy duly
/ installed.
I Poor little fellow !" "Ah,
what a shame!" "What an
absurd idea !" the ladies ejacu-
lated to each other, when they
S / 7 first saw the little figure in its
many-buttoned livery.
SA sort of instinctive
mother-pity moved their
hearts as they saw him take
both slender hands to turn
the big brass door-knob; but
MR. BLAKE, THE AGENT. he looked up at them with such
a cheery, triumphant smile, as
if to say, You see I can do it," they could not but smile in return;
and they soon found he performed his duty well.
He had the manner of a tiny courtier, as he swung the door
wide open, and bowed a smiling acknowledgment of any little
pleasantry addressed to him.
Thomas had not always been in very good trim to appear in


public, often bearing marks of his servitude at the coal-bins below
stairs. Now there was always the trim, neat little figure, with fresh
white skin, and bright brown locks waving back from his forehead,
looking sometimes almost like a halo when the sun fell on them
from the colored glass window.
I want you to take particular notice of our Little Buttons,"
the ladies began saying proudly, as they brought friends in with
them. But they needed no such prompting, for, invariably, every
new-comer would ask about him.
Where did you find that dear little bell-boy?" What a jolly
Little Buttons!' Isn't he too cunning for anything in his liv-
ery ?" Each one had something to say of him. Yet he would not
be patronized, and maintained a certain sweet dignity remarkable in
such a child.
"A wonderful manner for a boy like that," even Mrs. Leo Hunt
admitted in the privacy of her apartment ; but when, on the day
following, she found her little daughter chattering with him in
great glee, she frowned and called her away. Bettine, the maid,
was rebuked for allowing Miss Marion to be so unladylike; and
turning to the innocent offender, Mrs. Hunt said, And you, sir,
should not take such liberties. You forget you are only a bell-
boy." A deep color suffused his usually pale face, but he looked
calmly at her, and bowed, as he answered respectfully, in a low
tone, Yes, ma'am, I'll remember after this." And he did so al-
though little Miss Marion persisted in showing her jolly friendliness
for him.
She evidently did not inherit her mother's caste prejudice, and it
was hard sometimes to resist the bright, roguish face. But when
she stopped thereafter on her way out with Bettine, and grew talk-
ative, he tried to check her by saying, Remember, Miss Marion,
what your mamma said;" and added wistfully, A mamma must
be the best friend a little girl or boy can have." Kind-hearted Bet-


tine tried to give him a comforting word in her broken English, and
Marion, fuller than ever of questions, paid little heed to his good
Haven't you really, truly, any mamma? Is she-is she-



dead ?" she asked, in a frightened tone. Then brightening: May-
be she only went away, like Cissy Howard's mamma, and will come
back in a year or two," she said, with her curly head cocked to one
side, and a sorry look in her brown eyes that went far toward com-
forting him, and made him wish he dared kiss her. But he had
such a wise little head, he knew it would not do ; though a gentle
little boy's kiss seems a sweet and harmless thing enough.
When Marion got outside with the maid she asked, Why,
Bettine, why does mamma say I must not speak to such a nice little
boy as Little Buttons ?"
Every one called him Little Buttons now, and he nearly forgot
that he ever had any other name.
He's ever so much nicer-looking than Bertie Travers," she
continued, "and more polite; and mamma doesn't care how much
I hug and kiss 1im."
With the sweetly unreasoning reason of a child she argued on:
" S'posin' he is a bell-boy, Bettine; what's bad 'bout bein' a bell-
boy? I've heard Bertie Travers say awful naughty things, and
Little Buttons never does." In a horrified whisper she related Ber-
tie's saying to Lennie Townsend, "You bet my terrier can lick
your Dixie like blazes." Wasn't that dreadful talk, Bettine, for a
boy that's got a nice mamma?" Evidently Marion had been con-
sidering the advantages of other children having mammas, even if
she forgot her duty to her own.
Bettine could not well explain matters to Marion's satisfaction,
so she only begged of her as usual to be zne bonne infant" and
obey her maman. But the spoiled child persisted in showering her
caresses and attempting frolics with Little Buttons every chance
she could get, her mother laying the blame in the wrong place, as
usual, and making it very uncomfortable for him.
However, he found one stanch friend in Mrs. Benson, a kind
little woman, who carried a smaller purse but a much larger heart


and longer pedigree than Mrs. Leo Hunt. Sometimes, under pre-
tence of warming herself after coming in, she lingered about the
steam radiator in the hall and talked with him, as she thought he
had a pretty dismal time of it for such a little fellow.


i/ -


She said to her husband at dinner one evening, Ned, have you
talked with Little Buttons at all? He is very quaint, and, though
he is always so bright and cheery, there is something infinitely pa-
thetic about him."


"Yes, he is a bright little fellow, and seems merry enough too,"
responded Mr. Benson.
He has no mother or father," pursued Mrs. Benson, "and has
had a dreadfully rough sort of life, I imagine, from what he tells
me; but see how refined and gentle he is."
Hard on such a little chap to be knocking about so," he replied.
" Give him some money occasionally, Fan, and I will too."
But I've tried to, and he seems reluctant to take it," she ear-
nestly said.
Wouldn't take it? What is the boy made of? He is a very
uncommon boy if money does not tempt him."
Indeed he is an uncommon boy. When he crushed his poor
little finger the other day, shutting the carriage-door for me, he
scarcely even groaned aloud, and never once complained afterward,
though he had to carry his hand in a sling for days."
Lots of grit, and no mistake," said Mr. Benson; "but those
youngsters learn to endure from their babyhood ;" and the next
minute he had forgotten all about Little Buttons in reading up
stocks and shipping news.
The day of the accident that Mrs. Benson had spoken of was a
red-letter day for Little Buttons, notwithstanding the suffering
attending it.
Mrs. Benson, seeing his face contract with the pain, sprang out of
the carriage, took him to her apartment, tenderly bathed and bound
up the wounded finger in soft linen, and then carried him in the
carriage to her doctor, to learn whether the bone was injured.
Luckily it was not, and with a healing lotion which he prescribed,
and which she daily applied, it got quite well again.
VWhen she dressed it, he looked up in her face so bravely and
said, Mrs. Benson, I think I could stand it real well if it hurt more
yet; you handle it so softly." It brought tears to her eyes, and
when with a faint laugh he added, Your fingers are just like satin,"


she could feel him cringe with the soreness and pain, and she could
only kiss the bruised hand.in silence.
In telling Mr. Benson about it, she said, I declare, Ned, I came
so near crying over the brave little soul that I just took him by the
other hand, and pretended to laugh as we ran downstairs as fast as
we could, and forgot all about the elevator."
Her husband laughed too, and touched his lips to her cheek as
he said, What a .tender-hearted little woman you are, Fanny!
What was there to cry over in that, my dear?"
Why, Ned, it seemed to me he was longing for the tender care
only a mother can give. Think of the poor little waif taking care
of himself ;" and she hurried off, fearing her husband would laugh
again at the quaver in her voice.
From that time she and Little Buttons became fast friends, and
he was not so badly off after all. She found ways of helping him;
made little errands for him to execute, so as to give him a run in
the air, while she playfully took his place as door-opener, and man-
aged to repay him for all he did in ways which he could not refuse.
So he soon came to look upon her as his particular friend and ally in
the house, and adored her in proportion.
Mrs. Leo Hunt's haughty airs never hurt his sensitive little heart
any more, now that Mrs. Benson's bright eyes beamed on him with
warm approval and sympathy. Even the cold visage of Mrs. Hunt
thawed into something like a smile, as Mrs. Benson swept open the
door for her one morning, with precisely Little Buttons' manner,
saying, Little Buttons, pro ter., Lady Hunt; the little man is out
taking an airing."
Mrs. Hunt said afterward, to some one, Really, that little Mrs.
Benson does the most absurd things; if she did not come from
so good a family I should scarcely care to keep up her' acquaint-
It was a very tiresome, monotonous business, doing nothing all


day long but open and shut a big door, while the boys' voices rang
out merrily from their games in the street; and Little Buttons
sometimes looked out very wistfully, and a sigh involuntarily welled
up from his lonely little heart.

/ \

ji i >


He soon began to notice a wee, round face and fluffy flaxen
head in the window of a big brown house over the way. When the
time hung rather heavily he got to watching for it, and when it
appeared, would softly open the door, peep out, and give a quick


little nod of recognition. Child-fashion, he was making b'leeve "
that he knew her. lie often wondered what it could be like to be
cared for so tenderly as she was, and tried to imagine her surround-
ings, and when one day he discovered that she saw him and bobbed
her fluffy head in return with great glee, he was wild with joy.
" She sees me-she knows me," he whispered exultantly, and was
happy all day over it.
Mrs. Hunt caught him nodding and whispering to himself, and
remarked to Thomas, "Do you think that child is quite right,
Thomas? I sometimes find him gesticulating so strangely, and
talking to himself in such a disagreeable way."
In his right moind, do yez mane, mum ? Indade that he is.
He's a wise little fellah, and is just amusin' hissel' a bit, quite
Faix what a woman that be !" muttered Thomas, as he scut-
tled down the basement stairs. Bedad, she'll tak' the cake for
foindin' folt." So Little Buttons kept up his pretence and meagre
amusement undisturbed.
Whenever the little face appeared at the window he somehow
felt comforted. Its little owner came out on all pleasant days for a
walk with her nurse or a ride with her mamma in her carriage. She
was as dainty as a snow-fairy, in her soft white hood, cloak, and furs,
and Little Buttons often wished he could just lift her in his arms.
She looks like a little white feather, and I believe she is almost as
light," he said to himself. Don't blow away, little white feather,"
Mrs. Benson heard him say, as she came up behind him just then.
When she returned from her walk, she handed him a beautiful
great pink rosebud, saying, Would you like to run over and leave
that at the door for Little White Feather,' as you call her ?"
May I? Oh, Mrs. Benson, how good you are to me !" he said
gratefully, his eyes sparkling and his face flushed with pleasure.


And Mrs. Benson felt as happy over it as if she were but nine years
old herself.
Just say, as you leave it, For the little girl at the window,' "
said Mrs. Benson.
Away he ran, and was quickly back again watching for her.




There she is! There she is!" he excitedly exclaimed, clapping
his hands with a childish .delight that Mrs. Benson had never before
seen him manifest.
There she was, sure enough, tossing him a kiss with one dimpled
hand and holding the beautiful rosebud in the other. Then her


mamma looked out smiling over the head of her darling, took the
rose and touched it to the baby lips with a sweet gesture, and helped
both little hands toss kisses.
Little Buttons never forgot that day. It made him glow all over
whenever he thought of it, and Mrs. Benson felt it the happiest in-
vestment she had made in a long time. Afterward the little maiden
always recognized him, and he almost began to feel she partly be-
longed to him. As the weather grew warmer, the nurse brought
her over the street occasionally for a minute or two, as Flossie so.
often teased her to go and see the little Button-boy."
He thought her sweeter than ever, and learned from the soft
pink lips that she was called mamma's dollin' tumfit," but the
nurse told him that she had been christened Florence Fairbanks


As Flossie came down the street one day with the nurse she
suddenly spied her little Button-boy" peeping out of the door,
and dropping the nurse's hand she started to run to him, but stum-
bled and fell, striking her head against the curb.
Little Buttons dashed out, picked her up, and was half-way up
the stoop of the big house before the nurse could reach her. The
sweet blue eyes were closed, and the little dimpled hands hung limp
and lifeless. Mrs. Clyde stood at the window as Little Buttons
came up the steps, and met him at the door with a face like marble.
She took the child from him gently and carried her in, while Little
Buttons rushed down the street for a doctor, and was back before
any one had collected his wits sufficiently to know what to do.
In his fright and anxiety he forgot that he had left "The Grosve-
nor door standing wide open.


As soon as Flossie became conscious and the doctor pronounced
her not seriously injured, only that she must be kept quiet for some
days, Little Buttons suddenly thought how he had deserted his
post. No one in The Grosvenor had witnessed the accident but
he. But Mrs. Leo Hunt had unfortunately been the one to find
the door standing open and Little Buttons nowhere to be seen.
She, of course, made it her business to inform the janitor, and poor
Little Buttons found himself disgraced, and shrank from the wither-
ing glance of his ever stern judge as he faced her in the hall on his
"This settles it for you, sir," she emphatically announced.
" How dare you leave the door open in that careless way for thieves
to run through the house ?"
Of course it was true that thieves might have come in, but they
had not, and under the circumstances she might have spared her
Oh, I am so sorry, Mrs. Hunt !" he tearfully said ; but I could
not help running to pick up little Miss Flossie ;" and his sobs nearly
choked him, for, after all, he was only a very little boy.
Mrs. Hunt took the matter seriously in hand, although Thomas
tried to mollify her by saying, with a knowing twist of his head,
" Oi'll attind to the thing, Mrs. Hunt;" and he made an errand to
Mrs. Benson and informed her he felt very bad down dape in his
moind." Motioning toward the floor, he said, She intinds him to
go, Mrs. Benson, and go he wull in spoit of us all. Och, we'll not
foind another like him, Mrs. Benson. Those missinger and bell-b'ys
do be mostly a bad lot." Having thus freed his mind, he went
away, sorrowfully shaking his head.
Mrs. Hunt kept agitating the matter, as she thought this was a
good pretext for getting rid of the bell-boy. She had a good deal
of trouble with Marion nowadays, who, in spite of everything,
would still show her admiration for him. Mrs. Hunt did not mind



J,:, .!/j;
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changes so long as she did not suffer by them, so she enlarged
upon the risk of having so young and irresponsible a person in that
position. She met with little sympathy from the others, but was
politic enough to know where her power lay, and did not hesitate
to affirm that if the agent chose to keep him, out would go Mrs.
Leo Hunt and all her belongings. This threat settled the business,
as she meant it should, for it was not a desirable time of year to
lose a tenant, especially one who was paying nearly double the rent
of the former one, and Mr. Blake felt that he could not afford to
displease her. Therefore, in spite of his own compunctions, for he
was not a hard-hearted man, and in spite of the copious tears of
Marion and the indignant protestations of Mrs. Benson, it was de-
creed that poor Little Buttons must go.
His good friend began turning over in her busy brain all sorts of
schemes, possible and impossible, to provide for her little protc'g;
but before she could carry any of them any something quite unex-
pected occurred.
Little Buttons stood ruefully looking over at the big house,
thinking of the little girl that had so won his interest and affection.
In his one fleeting glimpse of its beautiful interior it had seemed
to him like fairyland, a fitting home for the sweet lady and the
little white fairy.
Almost more painful than the thought of being homeless again
was the fear of never again seeing her, and a big sob came up, and
out came his small handkerchief, which was one of a set given him
by Mrs. Benson. Even the sight of that accelerated the flow.
When, indeed, should he ever again find any one that would be so
good to him as she had been? The poor, motherless, homeless
little boy was nearly sobbing his heart out, all by himself, in the
dark, dismal hall, when the door-bell rang.
With his eyes buried in his handkerchief he had not seen a ser-


vant coming from over the way. He hastily wiped his face, and
tried to keep out of sight as he opened the door.
Mrs. Clyde's man, James, espied him behind the door, and
looked very good-natured as he said, "What's up, Little Buttons?
Don't cry; little Miss Flossie's all right, only she's very restless,
and asks for you all the time. If you can be spared, Mrs. Clyde
would like to have you come over and
help amuse her. How would you like
S' to live over there, little fellow?" asked
the good-natured James.
How would he like it ? All the answer
/ the poor little fellow could make was a
/ o simple Oh!" like an involuntary sigh
of pleasure.
He felt sure he saw a rainbow close in
Front of him ; whether it was the colored
\ window-glass reflected through his tears,
i or the sudden prospect of dwelling in
that paradise across the street, he could
never tell. It passed in a moment, but
it left some of its radiance behind in the
little face.
S Call the janitor," said James, brisk-
JAMES, RS. CLYDE'S MAN. ly, and let me deliver my message to
There was a thrill in Little Buttons's voice that brought Thomas
swiftly at the summons. There he stood, with his eyes shining
like stars and his cheeks like June roses.
"Tell him about it," said James, encouragingly; and Little
Buttons slid his small hand into Thomas's, in a half-regretful way,
and raised his eyes to his face.
"You can't guess what it is, Thomas, but I know you'll be


glad, because you've always been so good to me. Only just now I
felt so bad about going away from you and dear Mrs. Benson and
little Marion, and thought I might never see little Miss Flossie
again, and here I am going,to be right with her!"
"Well-well-well!" ejaculated the surprised Thomas.
Did you ever know such a lucky boy, Thomas ?"
"Bedad! I never did," said Thomas. "Good luck go wid ye,
me boy," he said huskily, giving the little hand a squeeze that
made its owner wince.
Then James delivered the remainder of his message, which was
that Mrs. Clyde would pay for a boy in Little Buttons's place until
they found one to suit Mr. Blake and the occupants of "The Gros-
venor," as she wanted Little Buttons to come right away.
I'll come over and bring back these clothes, Thomas, as soon
as I can," he said cheerily. "Your new bell-boy ought to have
No, no," said Thomas; "they will not fit the new boy, I am
sure. Keep them to remember us all by, Little Buttons;" and he
drew his hand hurriedly across his eyes.
He begged James to wait a few minutes while he ran up to say
good-by to his good friend Mrs. Benson, and to leave a message
with her for little Marion.
Mrs. Benson was rejoiced at his good fortune, and made him
promise he would come and see her.
"Yes, indeed I shall," he said, wagging his small brown head
wisely. I shall tell Mrs. Clyde and Flossie all about you."
After bidding him good-by she watched him go across the street,
holding James by the hand; the door closed behind them, and Little
Buttons was ushered into his new home.
How I shall miss the little fellow !" she thought, as she turned


It turned out that good fortune was on the way to Little But-
tons when he thought it was the darkest hour of his life.
Mrs. Clyde had often told Flossie of a dear little brother she
had when she was a baby. She always had been very tender toward
little boys, and had felt a growing interest in Little Buttons since
the day he brought the flower to Flossie.
She had a half-formed plan in her mind regarding him, at the
very time of Flossie's accident, and his ready thoughtfulness in that
emergency pushed it toward completion. At Flossie's importunity
for him she resolved to have him come, and to complete her plan
As he now came in with James she met him in the hall, and
taking him by the hand, thanked him warmly for what he had done,
and led him in to Flossie.
Little Buttons thought she had the sweetest smile he had ever
seen, yet there was something so sad in her face that he felt that
she must have some great trouble.
She left him to play with Flossie awhile, and then showed him
the cosey room next the nursery that he was to occupy.
A happy little boy slept there that night, and dreamed of a beauti-
ful princess hovering about him. Lower and lower over him she
bent until her lips touched his cheek, and then he slept dreamlessly
until morning.
When he woke he thought at first he was still dreaming, till in a
flash came the remembrance of the eventful yesterday.
Here he found himself in the very place he would have wished
if some good fairy had given him his choice.
It seemed too much to believe, and while dressing he kept re-
peating, But it is true !"
Mrs. Clyde, coming in through the nursery-door, heard him, and
asked with a smile, What is true, Teddy ?"


With a blush and a happy little laugh he answered, I am only
trying to make myself know I am truly here."
He was not to be called Little Buttons in the Clyde house-
hold, although Flossie could not at first understand why.
When told to call him Teddy," Flossie shook her silky head,
saying, No-no; Button Boy." Mrs. Clyde had given Teddy in-
structions how to win over her young ladyship to the new name,
and when Flossie found that he did not heed her if she called him
anything but his real name, she soon yielded.
Mrs. Clyde watched Teddy so intently that she sometimes seemed
to forget herself, and sat with her eyes fixed dreamily on his face,
until recalled by his softly asking her, Did you speak to me, Mrs.
No, Teddy, I was only thinking," she would answer, and sigh
so heavily that his kind little heart longed to comfort her.
Most every one has some trouble in some way or other, don't
they, Mrs. Clyde ?" he said one day.
Yes, Teddy, I think they do; but what makes you think of
that ?"
After a little embarrassed pause, he said, Well, I often hear
you sigh, and your eyes most always look so sorry."
She walked out of the room, making no reply, but as she passed
him patted him softly on the head. His tender sympathy had ap-
parently touched her deeply.
She was much pleased to see how quickly and easily he adapted
himself to his surroundings, never putting himself forward, yet keep-
ing Flossie so quietly happy and amused all the day long that she
soon seemed as well as ever. The time soon came when she must
decide in what capacity he was to remain as a member of her
Mrs. Clyde had not done this thing rashly. After taking him
thus into the inner sanctum of her home, she knew she could not


set him adrift again in the great world. She was becoming attached
to him, as indeed were all the members of the household. He won
his way all unconsciously, and was simply happy in his present
security and comfort. He grew rosy and healthy, for now that
Flossie was well again, Mrs. Clyde sent him out in the air a great
deal to play, and took him often with her and Flossie to ride, at
which Mrs. Leo Hunt smiled scornfully.
Really, there is no accounting for tastes," said the haughty
woman to Mrs. Benson, as she saw them come and go.
He is a dear little fellow, whatever his birth may have been,"
bravely persisted Mrs. Benson, and his present prosperity agrees
with him. How handsome he is growing, now that he has plenty
of exercise and is surrounded by kindness!"
She was watching him as she spoke, going up the steps, with
Flossie clinging to his hand as if fearing she might lose him.
Mrs. Clyde had learned a good deal about his former life through
her questioning, and his fragmentary recollections strangely inter-
ested her. Mr. Lendrum, her lawyer, came often of late, and wore
almost as anxious a face as Mrs. Clyde when they came from their
consultations in the library.
One day, as she and Mr. Lendrum saw Flossie with her arm
close about Teddy's neck and laughing merrily, she said, I shall
adopt him. I cannot give it up. See how fond she is of him, Mr.
Lendrum. He has the name and he shall fill the place of my boy."
To which the lawyer replied, in a low voice, Do not be rash,
Mrs. Clyde, I beg of you. Wait a little longer, that you may have
nothing to regret."
So the days passed on, and nothing further was decided as to
what should be done with Teddy. In his innocent answers to her
questions she gathered by degrees his pitiful story.
He had been but poorly cared for as far back as he could remem-
ber, and seemed to have no recollection of any one who was dear to


him. A man who last had care of him told him he had been left to
him at the death of a friend, and this man seemed to be the only
one of whom he could talk connectedly. It was a tale of dissipation
and poverty that made her heart ache. As Teddy said to her in
speaking of him, Sometimes he drank
dreadfully, Mrs. Clyde, and then he
used to sleep forhours in the daytime;"
and he told her how he had been sent
out for food when funds were short.
4" Sometimes Mr. Hamor made a lot of
money at a time, after working hard all i
night long, and then we used to have /
plenty to eat," he said, in a tone that
told her more than his words. But
he was always good to me," he said,
in his old-fashioned, common-sense
way, as if anxious to give him all the
credit he could, and he never whipped '
me but once, and I always remembered /
it !"
Mrs. Clyde caught her breath with THE NURSE'S 11USBAND.
a sob, got up, and came to him, and
he could not tell why it was there came such a great lump
in his throat, when she laid her hand on his shoulder, and looked
into his eyes so searchingly. .It seemed to him she looked for some-
thing for which her heart was hungering.
When he tried to tell her a little about a woman that he dimly
remembered and thought she might have been the man's wife, she
became greatly excited. Putting her arm about him, she said ea-
gerly, "Try and remember more-try hard, Teddy!' But he could
only tell her disjointed bits of a wandering life in England and
France, and could give no definite locations, as they changed their


home so often. He remembered the woman dying suddenly one
night, and then this same wandering life went on and on, until they
came over in the steerage of a ship to America. "Then, a short
time after that,' he said, with simple pathos, I was all alone. Mr.


Hamor went out one night to try and make some money, and he
never came back again. Then I had to look for little jobs of work,
such as sweeping sidewalks and running errands; and then Mr.


Blake, you know, put me in 'The Grosvenor' as bell-boy; and now
--hcre I am with you and Flossie /" he ended, brightly.
His child-heart put by all the misery of the past and revelled in
its present happiness. As he looked up he found the tears stream-
ing down her face. Laying his hand softly on hers, he said, Did
I make you cry, dear Mrs. Clyde? I'm so sorry! I never want to
fell you any more about those dreadful times."
No, Teddy," she answered, "we will try to forget it all. We
will not talk about it any more."
** *
Oh, mamma! what do you think?" cried Mrs. Hunt's little
madcap daughter, bursting in upon her a few days after that, her
brown eyes dancing with excitement. She tried to catch her breath
long enough to tell the wonderful news. Little Buttons is Mrs.
Clyde's own, own little boy, and that dear little Flossie is his own
sister!" she triumphantly announced. Now, mamma, I am sure
you are sorry you tried to make me stop playing with him. I didn't,
though," wickedly added the unruly child.
Marion, hush!" angrily said Mrs. Hunt. "What are you talk-
ing about ? Who has told you this nonsense?"
"'Tisn't nonsense, mamma, for Thomas was telling it to Mr.
Benson down in the hall just now ;" and she waltzed about the room
in her delight.
At this juncture the bell rang, and Mrs. Benson came in, saying,
I suppose you have heard the news, Mrs. Hunt ?"
Marion, do be quiet and let me hear the story connectedly, if
you can," said her mother, sharply.
Mrs. Benson then related the story as Mr. Benson had learned it
from Thomas.
Mrs. Clyde's husband had died when Flossie was a baby. After-
ward she was very ill, and the maid who took care of little Teddy
became very careless and insolent, and Mrs. Clyde unwisely told


her that on her recovery she would dismiss her. The woman took
it quite calmly; soon after dressed the little boy, and took him out,
ostensibly for his usual airing; but the hours slipped away, and
when night came she had not returned. From that day to the
present the distracted mother's life had
been one incessant search for her lost
The usual mistakes and delays in pur-
A suing the wrong clues gave the woman a
chance to escape out of the country.
Partly from spite, and also for the large
reward which she knew was sure to be
Suffered, she had quickly formed a plan
for temporarily abducting the child. She
had a worthless husband who followed
S her about, and he found her just as she
was planning her return to America to
j claim the reward she had seen offered
through the columns of a prominent
journal. She then changed her plans and
Bov. tried to evade him, and then she had been
taken suddenly ill and died without
giving him the slightest hint of her plans and intentions. He gam-
bled and drank up every penny of her earnings and his own as fast
as he got them. The pretty child, which she pretended to him
was her dead sister's, had won his affection to a certain extent, and
he tried to keep him from starving. He had managed to shift
along until a few months before, when they had come over to
America, as Teddy had been telling Mrs. Clyde.
He had but recently told her of a little ring which he had
always worn, until now, on a cord about his neck, under his cloth-


He said, I used to be afraid sometimes that Mr. Hamor
would take it away from me, when he wanted money, and I always
managed to hide it from him. But I was very hungry one day and
sold it to a boy for a quarter."
She eagerly urged him to describe it, and when, in doing so, he
mentioned some figures engraved inside, Teddy wondered at her
emotion. She put her arms about him, and pressed him closely to



her breast for several minutes, speaking only two words, Thank
God!" Then, as she held his face between her hands, her eyes had
such a happy light in them, and her face flushed so warmly, that
Teddy impulsively said, How pretty and happy you look, Mrs.
She said, Yes, Teddy, I am very, very happy. Run out now
and play awhile, and when you come in I will tell you what has
made me so-a true story for you and Flossie." She ran her
fingers softly through his brown hair, and put his cap on with a


tender touch like a caress, and Teddy ran off wondering. She then
rang for James and said to him, Send at once for Mr. Lendrum !
At once /" she repeated, with glad impatience.
The little ring was the missing link that straightened out the
tangle. The lawyer followed up the clue, and having recovered the
tiny talisman, all doubt was removed from his mind as to the iden-
tity of its owner. Teddy's father had placed it on his finger, on
his second birthday, with the date engraved inside.
Mrs. Clyde well remembered his saying to her, I want him to
wear it always, Flora dear, and when he outgrows it he can wear
it on his watch-chain as a charm."
Mrs. Benson feelingly added: It has proved to be the charm
that brought back the little fellow to his poor, mourning mother.
Dear Little Buttons! Only for that tiny ring he might still be a
desolate, wandering waif!"
The lawyer thought the woman had removed it from his finger
and hung it on his neck, out of sight, for fear of his being identified
before she was ready to have him. When her plans were com-
pleted, and she could secure the reward without harm to herself,
she probably intended it to be the unquestionable proof of his
identity, even though years should intervene.
And so it had proved to be, and without harm to her, for she
had already gone to a higher tribunal.
The ring had a second date inscribed upon it now-the one on
which Teddy had unknowingly entered his own home, bearing little
Flossie in his arms.
Through that act he touched the chord in the mother's heart
that had never ceased vibrating. She always felt that the broken
invisible tie was then made whole again. He came bearing his
sister in his arms; nor could she have wished a sweeter way,
though he was seemingly then only Little Buttons.
Mrs. Hunt had listened to the story with a look of chagrin that


did not pass from her face till long after Mrs. Benson had left. It
had been her great desire to be on the visiting-list of the wealthy,
popular Mrs. Clyde. To think that by her own false pride she
should thus have thwarted her own wishes was exasperating.


The next day, you may be sure, the inmates of "The Gros-
venor" were at the windows to see Master Theodore Clyde come
out for a ride with his mamma and little sister.
Dressed in a dainty velvet suit of the latest cut, and carrying a
beautiful bouquet of hothouse flowers, he looked every inch the
little gentleman he was.


He smiled up into his mother's face with such an earnest, happy
look, as she stooped and kissed him and said a few words, that
Mrs. Benson cried for very joy.
Marion, standing beside her mother, suddenly burst out ex-


citedly, "Oh, mamma! there's the little ring! See it hanging on
a chain from his watch-pocket? Oh, how sweet!" And in her
enthusiasm she danced and pirouetted until checked by her mother
saying, He's coming over here."
He ran quickly across and rang the bell, which he had but so
laterly answered himself. Thomas chanced to open the door and
bowed to him most respectfully. How are yez, Master Clyde?"
Very well and very happy. How are you, Thomas ?" he said,


in his own quaint way, handing the flowers to him. Please give
these to Miss Marion; and this (taking from his pocket a small
package) to Mrs. Benson; and this to Mr. Janitor," he said, with
a gay little laugh, as he laid a bank-note in Thomas's hand, and
darted back across the street, stepped into the carriage with his
happy mamma and little sister, and was driven away.
As the gayly caparisoned horses pranced off he waved his hand
from the carriage-window to Marion and Mrs. Benson. It made
Mrs. Benson think of the day when she had given him the rosebud
for Flossie. When Marion waved her hand in return, her mother
did not rebuke her this time. She was reading a card found among
the flowers:
For my little friend Marion, with the affectionate remem-
brance of her friendliness to

Mrs. Hunt's hopes rose again at the words, for she might yet,
through Marion, be able to boast of her acquaintance with Mrs.
As Mr. Benson came in that night his little wife danced up to
him holding out her hand. On it glistened a brilliant diamond,
and lifting a note from the table she read aloud:
To be worn by the owner of the soft hand that bound up the
wounded one of my dear little boy. His mother hopes soon to
know better one who was his kindest, best friend at a time when he
so much needed friends.
With kindest thoughts and gratitude from her, and the love of
The agent, too, was remembered substantially. And so Little
Buttons, the bell-boy," came into his birthright-a loving mamma,
a fond little sister, a beautiful home, and warm friends-by being
always a brave and gentle little man.

the Manager of Belford Magazine hereby certify
that the circulat Lon sale and copies printed of Belford's for the
o..H e-y O ,b 2 t 1 0.

past six months have been over fiftv thousand copieseach month

and that the order ior the December number Is 70.000 copies.

I do also certify that Belford's is increasing by year-

ly paid up subscribers at the rate of not less than 5000 a month.

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