Citation
Twilight stories

Material Information

Title:
Twilight stories
Creator:
Foulke, Elizabeth E
Silver Burdett Company ( Publisher )
Norwood Press ( Printer )
J.S. Cushing & Co ( Printer )
Berwick & Smith ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
Boston ;
New York ;
Chicago
Publisher:
Silver, Burdett & Co.
Manufacturer:
Norwood Press ; J.S. Cushing & Co. ; Berwick & Smith
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
99 p. : ill. ; 19 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's poetry ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1895 ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1895 ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1895
Genre:
Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Illinois -- Chicago
United States -- Massachusetts -- Norwood
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

Statement of Responsibility:
by Elizabeth E. Foulke.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026773647 ( ALEPH )
ALH0254 ( NOTIS )
12997537 ( OCLC )
04016824 ( LCCN )

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Full Text






The Baldwin Library

Sa OT FE TE RCT 1 es SE ree ee es OIE ETAT oat



rere ee eee cree er errr niet Eh Se)



Venere SOs

BY

ELIZABETH HE. FOULKE

SILVER, BURDETT & COMPANY
New Yorr BOSTON CHICAGO
1895



CHOICE SUPPLEMENTARY READING.

The Young Folks’ Library.

For School and Home.



Edited by Larkin Dunton, LL.D., Head Master Boston Normal School.

STORIES OF CHILD LIFE. four Volumes.

1. At Home. III. In the Country.
Il. At Play. IV. At School.

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE. Seven Volumes.

I. First Lessons. IV. Our American Neighbors.
Il. Glimpses of the World. V. Modern Europe.
II. Our Own Country. VI. Life in Asia. (Jn press.)

VII. Views in Africa.

Copyricut, 1895, By Sitver, BuRDETT & ComPANy.

Norwood Press :
J. S. Cushing & Co.— Berwick & Smith.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.



PREFACE.

sense
Dear LirrLe CHILDREN : —

These stories are for you. I have tried to put them into
easy words, so that you might read them all yourselves.

I hope that they may give you pleasant thoughts.

I want that you should feel as friends toward the chil-
dren of these stories.

They are little friends of mine, —I wish them to be
friends of yours.

Very truly,

ELIZABETH E. FOULKE.

Ricumonp, Ind., September, 1895.







CONTENTS.

CoLUMBINE

GranpMa’s DoLi

JACK AND HIS FRIEND
Drew anp Rain

THE Liny-Pree

Tommy Toap .

CHILD AND FLOWER

Frre SPRITES

Eruer’s FLOWERS

In Heaven

TomtTiv’s Peer aT THE WORLD
Ray’s SACRIFICE
BLUEBELLS

How Priycu Lost a Ciraw
WAUHTASSA :

A Day iw Brownie Lanp
Tue Farry’s Girt .

Tux Car’s Dream .
BLuE GENTIAN

Jack Frost

Pine Buurrs

Jor’s Bitty Goat

Tur WIND

Tue Buacx Mire

In tuy Yours

PAGE

12
17
18
26
28
29
34
39
41
46
53
54
58
61
64
70
74.
75
77
83
87
89
98







TWILIGHT STORIES.












ae Ae ee
eo ES
f \

COLUMBINE.




















O Columbine, nodding your scar-
let and yellow

\\ In welcome to Honey-bee, hither-
ward flown,

You must have been anxious to
please the old fellow,

To store him his sweets in a

flower honey-comb!

y

Z Za>> f





8 TWILIGHT STORIES.



GRANDMA’S DOLL,

“T haven’t any doll but Rosabel,” Nina was saying.

“You are not tired of Rosabel, are you?” Grandma
asked.

“Q no, not tired of her, Grandma,” answered
Nina; “but her nose does look shabby where baby
kisses her!”

Nina felt half ashamed to speak so of Rosabel,
but she wanted a new doll like her cousin Nellie’s.

The children, Nina and Mary, had been asking for
a doll, but Mamma had said: ‘“‘ No, we can’t afford it!”
“ Nellie has one,

The children had been looking at dolls in the shop

” urged Mary, beginning to cry.

windows, and had chosen the kind they wanted.
Mamma felt sorry for the httle girls, but she said:
“We must all do without some things we want this
year. If Mamma does without a new dress, can’t
you do without another doll?”

The children looked very unhappy.

“You ought to see the kind of doll I used to play

{”

with said Grandma. Nina looked up without



TWILIGHT STORIES. ; 3



speaking. ‘// was never inside a shop window!”
The children’s faces began to brighten. ‘“ What kind
of doll was it, Grandma?” asked Mary, drying her
eyes.

“Tt grew in the garden,” said Grandma; “it had
beautiful flaxen hair. I used to braid Hannah’s hair
in two plaits, and fasten 1t back with thorns.”

“Was Hannah the doll’s name?’ asked Nina.

“Yes, I named her for my mother.”

“But what was she, Grandma?”
asked little Mary.

“Was her face green?” asked
Nina.

“Yes,” said Grandma, “it looked
green to other people!”

“Then,” cried Nina, “I know what



it was! It was corn; now wasn’t it, Grandma?”
“Yes, — Nina has guessed it! It was an ear of
corn in its green husk.”
“Did you make clothes for her?” asked Mary.
“Yes, I made clothes for her, but not with a needle
and thread. Her dress was sycamore leaves, fastened
together with stems. Her shawl was a mullein leaf,



10 TWILIGHT STORIES.



warm and woolly. She wore shiny pink ribbons of
rhubarb skins.” |
“Did she wear a hat?” asked Mary.

“She wore a bonnet
Sa S = made from a honey-
Vs suckle leaf.”
“OQ, I wish I had a
ike that!”





Lt






hy

he i go = =

i
/ if
he

it
fy,
I
“So do I!” chimed Mary, clapping her hands.

Mamma glanced at Grandma, and smiled. “Come,”

she said, looking toward the little girls; “you shall
have some dolls like Grandma’s!”



WILIGHT STORIES. 44



They followed her into the garden, and came back
in high glee.

’ cried Nina; “this is

“Here is one for Harry,’
Ah Sin, the Chinese cook!”

After the dolls were all dressed, the children had a
luncheon under the trees. Mamma and Grandma were
both invited, and they both came.

The girls thought Ah Sin ought to wait on the table,
but Harry did not want to help him, and Ah Sin
could ‘not do it alone!

So they all sat down together, and had a picnic
on the lawn. ‘ Won’t Nellie wish she had a doll
like this?” said Mary, as she passed the berries to
her doll and to Harry’s.

“Tt’s more fun to play with corn dolls than with real
ones,” said Nina; ‘and they don’t cost so much, do
they, Mamma?”



12 TWILIGHT STORIES.



JACK AND HIS FRIEND.

Jack lives at Mr. Felton’s, now. He was a little
waif, once, in a great city. He was often hungry
and cold in those days. He slept in boxes and
barrels in dark alleys. He was only seven years old,
but he had to black boots to earn money.

One day he blacked Mr. Felton’s boots.
He did not know Mr. Felton then. He
hs it}, brushed very hard. Jack tried to do his
Mi, < best. He never stopped until the
lili NX, Reels were as shiny as the toes.










The man looked into
cS, his eyes as he handed
him his pay. ‘‘ Would
you like to go with





LE
Ee

fis
is
= pel 6
SEE Ls NX
ZENG DS









a me to the country to-
morrow?” he asked.
Jack looked to see
whether the man really
meant it. Then a smile spread over his face. He
had never seen the country, but he knew a boy who



I'WILIGHT STORIES. 412



had. The boy had gone on the cars, and it had cost
him a quarter. Jack looked sober. He had only
twenty cents.

“T haven’t money enough, sir!” he said, looking
up. ‘But I have the money, myself,” said the man.
So Jack went.

That was three years ago, and Jack has been living
with Mr. Felton ever since. He has warm clothes to
wear, now. He has his own room, with a pretty bed
in it. He has learned to be of use about the farm.
He feeds the horses every night and morning. He
loves horses! He drives the cows up for Mary to
milk. Mary is his dearest friend. She gives him
cookies between meals.

She showed him how to part his hair straight, the
first day he came. She wears pretty dresses. Her
yellow hair is braided down her back. Her eyes are
blue. She sings while she works. Jack likes to hear
her sing! He always wants to please her. But he
learned to use bad words while he lived in New York.

One time Mary heard him use the bad words. It
frightened Jack to see the way Mary looked. She



44 TWILIGHT STORIES.



asked him to promise her that he would never swear
again. Jack promised.
The next day he asked Mary which were the ‘“ swear



words.” Then they had a long talk, and Jack felt
sure that he would never swear again.
Before they had done talking, Mr. Felton came in.
He told Jack to drive a stray pig back into the pasture.
‘So the little boy hurried away. The pig was eating
clover, and did not wish to leave. Jack chased it all



TWILIGHT STORIES. 415



around the field! When, at last, he let the bars down
and thought it was going through, the little pig turned,
gave a grunt, and ran back !

Then Jack was angry. He followed as fast as he
could. When he came near enough to hit it, he said
some bad words, again.

Now, as soon as the words had left his lips, Jack
remembered.

He stopped very still, while the little pig ran on.
Just inside the gate, he saw Mary standing. He knew,
by her looks, that she had heard. He turned his head
away to hide his tears. He did not say a word, but
Mary could see that he felt sorry. She opened the
vate and came through. “Tl help you, Jack,” she
said, and she walked along with him through the
pink clover, while the pig trotted on before. “We
won’t let him know that we are trying to drive him,”
Mary said.

So they walked very slowly. Jack wanted to tell
Mary how sorry he felt, but he did not know how to
say it. By and by, Mary looked down at him kindly
and said: “ We’ll have to begin over again, won’t we,
Jack?”



16 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Jack knew that she meant about the swearing.
“Yes,” he said, without looking up.

“You must try harder, Jack!”

Jack said nothing. The pig had reached the bars.
It turned and looked at Mary, and then—it walked
through. ‘It did that to please her!” thought Jack.

Mary waited while Jack put up the bars; then they
started back. When they reached the gate, Mary said:
“T wish I could help you to remember, Jack!”

The little boy looked up. Mary’s face was very sad.
‘Every time you swear,” she said, “you must feel
afraid, for God has heard you!” Mary turned and
went into the house. But Jack stood still at the gate.
God was with him there. His soul feared.

—0 0 f,0-0——

DEW AND RAIN.

Nurse Dewdrop waits till evening hours
To wash the pretty baby flowers ;

She cannot bear to hear them weep ; —
She comes when they are all asleep,
And glides among the shadows, deep,
To bathe them in their bowers.



TWILIGHT STORIES. let



When Mother Moon is out of sight,
The Baby Stars all lend their light ;
Nurse Dewdrop rides upon the breeze,
Beneath the shady grown-up trees ;
No bloom so tiny but she sees,

And leaves it clean and bright!

But often, in the open day

The sky above grows ashen gray,

And Thunder-storm comes dashing down,
To wash the dirt from field and town ;
She scrubs the leaves, till Nature’s gown
Is clean, and fresh, and gay!

Each little blossom hangs its head ; —
For, every tender flower must dread
The Thunder-storm, so rude and bold,
That splashes earth from out the mold,
And leaves its rootlets bare and cold,
All shaken from their bed!

So, as old Thunder-storm goes past,
She paints a rainbow at the last.



18 TWILIGHT STORIES.



To make the baby flowers forget

How bent they are, how bruised and wet;
To teach them that they must not fret
When skies are overcast.

For plants, by gentle breezes fanned,
Ave never strong enough to stand ;

They need the strife with wind and rain ;
So, children need the touch of pain,

And ought to smile, and not complain,
While growing brave and grand!

——.0:03.00——_

AE See Y PRE:

“The bubbles won’t stay!’ cried Johnny. There
were tears in his eyes. He had come out on the
lawn to make soap bubbles. Kate and Willie had
been making them before they started for school.
Johnny had been trying to do just as Willie did, but
the bubbles always burst when he tried to toss
them off.

He stood looking across the flower bed toward the



TWILIGHT STORIES. . 19



street. He wished Willie were near enough to come
and help him!
“Why, what is that?” he cried, in surprise. “Is




the sun
: coming down from
<. the sky?” He winked the
7 ~ tears away and looked again.
“Why, it?s a golden bubble, and its coming this
way. It has passed the pine tree, already!”
It sank lower and lower, and when it came near it
broke, and silvery clouds came rolling out of it. In
the midst of the clouds there was a pretty little girl.



20 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Her golden ringlets were as fine and soft as silk.
They blew about her face as she came moving toward
him.

She held a pretty pipe in her hand. ‘Try this,”
she said, smiling and looking at Johnny; ‘the bubbles
blown from it will never break. It will make pretty
pictures from your heart!” Johnny took it gladly.
It looked like a golden lily with a hollow stem. It
was beautiful! How kind the little girl had been to
bring it! Johnny would ask her to stay and play
with him. He looked up. His face was all aglow
with thanks.

But there was no little girl there, —nor any silvery
clouds, — nor golden bubble! Was it a dream?
Johnny half believed it was. “But no, I have the
pipe,” he said; “I shall try it, anyhow!”

The first bubble Johnny blew with his pipe showed
the picture of the little girl who gave it. It did not
float away. It was held fast by a golden thread. ‘The
thread came from the pistil of the lily. As Johnny
blew, the thread grew longer.

“This bubble makes a very pretty kite,” thought
Johnny. He broke the thread and tied it to a lilac



TWILIGHT STORIES. 24

bush. Then he blew another bubble. Soon he had a
dozen of them flying from the bush.

When Johnny had grown tired of his pipe, he put
it away in the garret for awhile. But whenever he
had a pretty thought, he would bring it down again
and blow a bubble.

Johnny hid his bubbles in the garret. He was shy
about having people see them; but he always showed
them to his mother. They would go together and tie
them to the rafters. On one of the bubbles was a
garden of roses, with fairies, like butterflies, flitting
among the flowers.

On another was a white-winged ship upon a golden
sea. There was Columbus kneeling before Queen
Isabella. There were pictures of the stories that
Johnny loved to hear. The faces of the friends he
knew looked fairer in the bubbles.

One bubble seemed to Johnny the prettiest of all.
It showed his mother’s picture as she looked when
he had pleased her!

One day late in the summer Johnny came running
into the house. ‘“O Mamma,” he cried, ‘may I go

in swimming?”



22 TWILIGHT STORIES.



But his mother shook her head. ‘No, Johnny,”
she said, “the water is too cold.”

Now, Johnny had wished to go very much, and,
besides, he hated to tell the boys, who waited at the
gate, that his mother had said he should not go.

The boys had told him when he started to the house,
that they never had to ask to go in swimming! It
took Johnny a long time to walk back to the gate.
He looked down all the way to hide his tears.

“Mamma says I mustn’t go,” he said in a low voice.
He did not dare to look up. He felt ashamed to have
the boys know how he was feeling.

“Why don’t you go anyhow?” asked little Sammie
Horner. He felt sorry for Johnny, and he wanted
him to go. ‘You can slip off through the garden, ©
and she will never know!”

“Yes, we will wait for you by the willow tree,” said
a large boy, the leader of the party.

“No,” said Johnny, “I wouldn’t run off!” He
meant to do right, even if it was hard.

The big boy looked vexed. ‘Well, stay and be a
baby!” he said, as he started down the street. He
hated little Johnny for being a better boy than he



TWILIGHT STORIES. 23



was. So he laughed at him with the other boys.
Johnny could hear them laughing as he ran into the
house.

He was angry, now. How his cheeks burned! His
mother sat sewing at the window. ‘Mamma,’ he
cried, ‘you are real mean not to let me go!”

His mother looked up, but she did not speak.
Johnny wished that she would say something. He
started off upstairs, slamming the door as he went.
He never stopped until he reached the garret.

There hung his pipe among the cobwebs! He had
not seen it for a long time. He took it down and
began to blow a bubble. He had never, before, tried to
make one when he felt cross. He blew hard, and now
a strange thing happened. This bubble, instead of
rising upward as the others had done, hung downward
from the lily bell.

“Tt feels heavy, too,” thought Johnny; ‘I wonder
what’s the matter!” He took the pipe from his
mouth to look. What do you guess he saw upon the
bubble ?

It was a fierce tiger with open mouth showing white,
cruel teeth! It looked eager to bite. “0,” cried



24 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Johnny, covering his eyes with his hands, “I didn’t
know my thoughts would look like that!”

He wished that he could hide the bubble. What
if Mamma should see it! He took it to the window
and broke the thread.



The bubble fell at his feet with a thud. “It will

never fly away,” cried Johnny; ‘ what shall I do?”

He would not ask Mamma. How cross he had been
to her! He leaned against the wall to think. At last
he looked up. “I know what T shall do with it!”
he cried, and he started down the stairs.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 25

The bubble dragged behind him as he ran. He
rushed out of the house and through the garden;



then, on to a pond not very far away.

Standing upon its bank, he took the ugly bubble
in both his hands and threw it far out into the water.
The heavy thing sank down, down, into the mud and
slime! Johnny’s heart was growing lighter all the
time that it was sinking. He watched the circling
ripples as they widened in the water. As he raised
his head his thoughts rose upward. “I can make a
pretty bubble, now!” he cried. He ran gayly to the
garret for his pipe.

O that bubble that he blew, when he had thrown
his bad thoughts from him! I wish you might have
seen it as it floated in the air. Johnny could not
tell, himself, as he blew, what he was making.

When he stopped at last to look at it, his tears
were those of joy.

Upon the airy bubble a silver mist seemed parting,
and an angel with white wings was smiling back at
him!





26 TWILIGHT STORIES.

—

TOMMY TOAD.

I am the toad that lives at Mr. Bain’s. I stay there
because I like Tim. Tim is Mr. Bain’s little boy. He
has a garden of his own. I keep the bugs and worms
off his plants.

Sometimes Tim comes to watch me. I wouldn’t
catch flies before everybody, but I will before Tim.
He is the best boy in the world! He doesn’t know
how I dart my tongue out so quickly. He has seen
me do it, too, hundreds of times. If Acs tongue were
loose in the back, maybe he could understand it!

He can do some things better than I can. He saved
my life last spring. When I first came up from the
river, I hid under Mr. Bain’s doorstep. I meant. to
stay there all day, for it was a cool, shady place.
Tim came down the steps just over my head, and went
whistling out into the garden. The little girls were
busy playing “keep house” in the summer kitchen.
I could hear them laughing and talking. I was sitting
very still catching flies that buzzed near. Tim can’t
sit as still as I can!



TWILIGHT STORIES. 27



All at once, without a sound, and before I had time
to move, I felt the jaws of a snake against my back.
I was sitting in front of his hole. I began to swell
out. How I bowed my legs! But the snake kept on
trying, and I should have been swallowed alive if I
hadn’t called for help. The girls heard my cries and
ran out for Tim. He came with his hoe and killed
the snake. O how scared I was! I was even afraid
of Tim. But he caught me, anyhow, and took me
out into the garden. He built mea little stone house
under a raspberry bush. It was very kind in Tim
to do it, but I always choose my own home, and I did
not stay there long.

I like this garden, though, and shall help Tim here
all summer. I like to watch his plants—he is my
friend.





28 TWILIGHT STORIES.



CHILD AND FLOWER.

Out of the leaf blanket, over her rolled,
Brave little White Blossom comes in the cold.
Isn’t it early for her to unfold?

Here, all a-flutter, she stands in the snow;
“Dear little White Blossom, I’d like to know
Whether the Mother-root said you might grow.”










“Fair little Child Blossom, all of us lie
Snug under mosses and withered leaves dry,
Waiting, in sleep, until Winter goes by.

; 4 ‘“ When, in the sleet and the cold and the rain,

Wk); Children look out through the dim window-pane,

Wishing that flowers would blossom
again —

“Then, Mother-root, from her bed under-
ground,

Wakens us all without making a sound;

Bids us to bloom in the grass all
around.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 29



“Dear little friend, it is cold in the snow;
Take me away, — I’ve been wishing to go.

It was for you that I wanted to grow!”



. ——obgtoo——

FIRE SPRITES.

The children were staying at Grandpa’s: Tom and
Rose and Dick. They were all in the kitchen one
night, around the open fire. Some apples were roast-
ing in the ashes. At one side of the fireplace was
Aunt Flo. She was sitting in a rocking chair. The
fire was throwing shadows on the ceiling. ‘What
shall we do while the apples are roasting?”’ Tom asked
of his little sister Rose.



30 TWILIGHT STORIES.

She whispered in his ear;— Aunt Flo couldn’t hear
it. Then, they both looked at her, and Tom said:
“Won’t you tell us a Fairy story, Aunt Flo?”

Aunt Flo smiled and shook her head. “There is a



prettier story than I can tell blazing in the fire all
the time,” she said.

The children turned to look. “I don’t see anything
but flames,” said Dick, who was lying on the floor
in front of the fire.

“T see smoke,” said Rose. “And sparks,” added
Tom. ;



TWILIGHT STORIES. 31



“You don’t see the Fire Sprites, then?” asked Aunt
Flo, looking into their up-turned faces. The children
shook their heads. ‘No wonder,” said Aunt Flo,
“they are always very shy. They fly away in the
smoke if people watch them!”

Tom shut his eyes and tried peeping, now and then.
At last he looked up. “I don’t see anything much.
What do you see, Aunt Flo?” he asked.

“OQ J don’t see it all, either,” said Aunt Flo, “but
I think I can tell you how it happens.”

“How what happens?” asked Rose.

“How the Fire Sprites, locked up in the wood, are
set free !” :

“O tell us!” cried Rose; “will it be a Fairy story?”

“Yes, a true Fairy story,” said Aunt Flo, looking
at the fire. The great hickory logs had fallen apart,
and blue and yellow flames were darting out. How
they sung, and crackled, and danced!

“The fire is glad, isn’t it, Aunt Flo?” asked Tom.

Aunt Flo shook her head. “The ire Sprites are
glad! How happy they are to be released!” she said.
Then she began this story : —

“This burning log grew, long ago, as a tree in



32 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Grandpa’s woods. It was small and weak then. The
wind could toss its branches, and sway its slender
trunk to and fro. The rain fell softly upon its tender
leaves, and sank into the earth to feed its roots. The
creat sun saw it, and gave it warmth and light. It
grew tall and strong, and bore nuts. Children played
around it, but little they thought of the Fire Sprites
living in its trunk !

“The Sprites were happy enough in those days;
but by and by the old tree died. Then they wished
that they might leave it and fly far away. How long
they had lived there, alone!

“The Air Sprites called them: ‘Come out where
we are! -Come out, little friends, and be free!’ The
Sprites within were eager to go; they loved the Sprites
of the Air. But, alas, their prison walls were strong!
No tiny Sprite could break them! Then every night
as the wind came up the Air Sprites sang this song :—

“<¢QO tiny Sprite,
With wings of licht,
When flame shall break the wall,
Pll come for thee
To set thee free ; —
When flame shall break the wall !’





TWILIGHT STORIES. 33



' «And the Sprites within would

“ answer : —

» “«O Sprite of the Air,
So blithe and fair,
When flame shall break the wall,
[ll fly to thee,
As thou to me ;—
When flame shall break the wall!’








“So they waited and were
patient, and one day the old tree
was hewn down and cut into fire-

wood. How glad the Sprites

were! They whispered to each

other: ‘At last we shall leave
the old tree!’ But still they
waited. One night Tom and Dick
carried in wood for Grandpa, and
the old hickory log was placed on

the coals.
“The flames crept around the wood and warmed it,
and the prison walls began to break. The Sprites
within were free!
“Took! The Sprites of the Air are trooping in



34 TWILIGHT STORIES.



now! The gay little Fire Sprites are whirling away
with the Air Sprites who come to take them. Together
they go, through the long, dark flue, to the great, wide
world beyond ! .

' “They dance and sing in the warmth they love, and
flutter in glee through the sparks.

“And this is the story repeated each day — every
time that anything burns. When the Sprite in the
Air finds the Sprite in the Wood, we say the wood
is burning!”

The children sat thinking. Then Rose looked up
and asked: ‘Now truly, are there Fairies in the wood?”

“We will call them Fairies,” Aunt Flo said, “ until
we have grown old enough to learn their names.”

—— 050400

ETHEL’S FLOWERS.

Mina had been sick. She was not well yet, but
she was better. Her mother was going away to-day.
She did washing for some people up town. It was the
first time for two weeks that Mina had been left alone.

How she longed to be out of doors again! She
had lain in that room so long! This morning she was



TWILIGHT STORIES. 35



dressed and propped up against the pillows. She
looked like a tiny spring blossom that was too weak
to stand against the keen March wind.

Her window opened on the street. Mina could
watch the children passing on their way to school.
She did not feel lonely until the morning was half
gone. When the street was quiet, and she heard only
the “tick, tock’ of the clock upon the shelf, — then
the tears began to come in her eyes, and she said to
herself: ‘I shall never be well again!” But this
was only a sick fancy, for Mina was growing stronger
all the time. The very next day she sat in her father’s
arm-chair and watched at the window for her mother.

In the beautiful home where Mina’s mother went
to wash, was another little girl who had been sick.
She lay on a couch near to the open window. A gentle
breeze was stirring. It swayed the pretty curtains
to and fro. A lady came in with some fresh flowers
for the child.

“Here, Ethel, are the hyacinths I told you would
be open!” she said, as she dropped them into the
little girl’s lap. Ethel took the dainty sprays and



36 TWILIGHT STORIES.



held them to her cheek. How cool and sweet the
waxy blossoms were !

“Thank you, Mamma, you are kind, ” Kthel said
with a smile; but soon her face grew thoughtful.
“Mamma,” she said, “I wish that you would promise
to let me do anything I wish!” Her mother laughed.

“Kthel must be better,” she said, sitting down at
her side.

“Will you promise, Mamma dear?” the little girl
coaxed; ‘‘there is one thing I want to do so much!”

The tears were coming in Ethel’s eyes. Her mother
saw it. She drew the child’s head close against her
shoulder, and brushed the curls away, and kissed her
forehead.

‘Tell Mamma all about it,” she said with a smile,
“it must be a very good wish!”

Kthel smiled back. ‘Why, Mamma,” she began,
“you bring me flowers every morning, —I love them
so, you know, —TI couldn’t take the medicine if it
wasn’t for them!”

‘No, dear.”

“Well, I have been thinking since I have been sick,
of the children who have no flowers; of the cltildren





TWILIGHT STORIES. 37



who are poor; of little Mina, who is sick. I am nearly
well now; I want to give my flowers to her!” Ethel
stopped and looked up.

“Well, you may,” her mother said, “as soon as
you are strong again. I am glad you thought about
it, Kthel dear!”

So it happened one day, while Mina sat at her
window, watching, that she saw a strange child com-
ing down the street. Such a pretty little girl! Her
smile was like sunshine!

A colored man was walking by her side. He carried
an open basket full of flowers — roses, pinks, and
hyacinths, and dainty violets!

Mina could smell the fragrance, for the wind was
from that way. She leaned over the window-sill and
took a long, deep breath. She had wished that very
morning to go and gather wild flowers.

But these, — Mina wondered where they grew! She
looked and looked again at the flowers,—the pretty
child, —the tall man with brass buttons!

By and by she saw the little girl was looking straight
at her.



38 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Mina thought: “She must be rich, but I am sure
she isn’t proud!” On she came, close to the window.

“This must be the place,” Mina heard her say, and
the man stopped and held the basket up. Mina drew
back. The little girl stepped nearer. ‘Do you love
flowers?” she asked.

Mina nodded and smiled, — she felt too shy to speak.



“T have been sick, too,” said the little girl outside ;
‘Mamma said I might bring my flowers to you!”’

She began to place them upon the window-sill, —
those beautiful, beautiful flowers! There they lay in
a heap! Mina sat still without speaking.

“Take them,” said the little girl; “they are yours!



TWILIGHT STORIES. 39



See this one!’’ and she dropped a pink rose-bud into
Mina’s lap.

Mina took it in her open hand. How fresh and
sweet it looked! She felt the pink petals with her
little fingers. How velvety they were! She thought
she had never seen so fine a flower. It was prettier
than a violet;— but, these violets were pretty! So
were the pinks! She would take them in her apron
and choose the one she liked best!

All at once, she remembered! Was her little friend
sone? She had not thanked her, yet, for the flowers!
She hurried to the door. The little girl was walking
off down the street; but she turned and looked toward
Mina as she stood within the doorway.

Mina smiled and waved her hand, and Ethel under-
stood.

IN HEAVEN.

Beyond the stars, across the blue,

The angel babies peeping through,

Look down from Heaven and smile on you,
And wish that you were up there, too!



TWILIGHT STORIES.





They like to live away up high.

They love to float across the sky.
They’re always glad, — and that is why
They think it isn’t sad to die!

But, free as birds upon the wing,

And fair as flowers that ope in spring,
They carol round their Savior King ; —
His glory lights them while they sing!

You'd be almost afraid to go?

You’ve never been up there, I know ; —
I'd rather have you wait, and grow

To be a man, on Earth below!



TWILIGHT STORIES. At



TOMTIT’S PEEP AT THE WORLD.

He was a tiny tomtit. His home was in the apple-
tree by the big gate. His mother was off the nest.
She had gone to the hillside for sunflower seed.

Tommy was wishing that he could fly away from
the nest, too. It was so crowded with six birds in it!
“Tam sure this nest gets smaller every day,” he said,
turning toward Topknot.

“Tt is big enough when we all keep quiet,” cna
Topknot, who thought Tommy was too lively.

Tommy tried to be still after this. ‘Iam afraid to
talk to Topknot; I shall feel cross, if I do,” thought
Tom, as he turned away his head.

It was tiresome waiting for his supper. He began
to feel hungry. ‘What makes Mamma stay away so
long?” he said at last, twisting his little head to
look; but he was in the middle, and could not see over
the edge.

‘Topknot, can’t you peep out and see?” he said.
But Topknot was afraid. “I am too near the edge



42 TWILIGHT STORIES.



already; why don’t you Took out, yourself?” asked |

Topknot.
“Well, I will,” Tommy answered, for he felt that |

Topknot was daring him. He flopped over to the side | |

of the nest.

“Get off my wing!” screamed Topknot.

“Don’t crowd so!” cried the other birds.

“Excuse me,” said Tommy, politely. “TIl be on the
edge ina moment. I’m sure I’m old enough to balance
myself!”

He stood on the edge and peeped over. ‘“ Why, the
blue doesn’t reach all around!” he cried. Tommy
had looked up into the sky all his hfe. He had never
looked down, before.

“The earth is covered with green pin-feathers! It’s
big, too; it’s bigger than this whole tree! I see
Mamma! How easy it must be to fly!”

“Tommy,” cried Topknot, “‘do come back; you might
fall!”

But Tommy was watching his mother fly, and did
not hear.

“What if I should fly, myself! I’m big enough,”
thought Tommy. Then he turned to the other birds



TWILIGHT STORIES. 43



in the nest. ‘I am going to fly over for some seed,”
he said.

‘Why, Tommy, you mustn’t,” the httle birds cried.
“Wait; Mamma will bring you some!”

“T am a big bird, myself, now,” Tommy cried, and
he shook his little wings, and gave a spring. He felt
frightened as soon as his feet had left the nest.

He was falling! How he flapped his wings and
tried to fly across! He kept going down, down, until
he reached the ground!

“OQ Mamma, Mamma, come!” he chirped. Then, he
thought of the cat, and kept still.

He had heard one mewing in the yard, that very
morning! What if she should come and find him on
the grass!

As he lay there, he heard voices. A boy came run-
ning toward him. Tommy was afraid of boys. He
crept farther under the grass. The boy nearly stepped
upon him, before he saw where he was hiding.

“Tt isn’t an English sparrow; it’s a tomtit!”’ the boy
cried, as he stooped and took Tom from the ground.
But Tom did not want to be taken; so, he opened his
bill and spit at the boy, and scolded him with all his



44 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“might. The little girl who came up was afraid to touch
him; but the boy held him fast, and looked at him.

“Put him up in
the tree, Willie,” the
little girl said; ‘he
is frightened; let us
vo away and leave
him!”

So, Tom was lifted
up and placed upon
the lowest bough.

“Vou poor; little
bird, I would not
hurt you!” said the
boy; and the chil-
dren walked away
toward the house.

‘Just then Tom’s
father came back.



What a chirping
there was in the nest! Tom could hear it. Would his
father think of him? He waited. All was quiet
again.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 45



Tom looked off toward the hillside. He saw his
mother flying toward the tree.

“Q Mamma, Mamma,” he chirped, “here lam; come
to me!”

His mother heard him. She came and gave him seed.

“Why, Tommy,” she cried, “what made you leave
the nest?”

But, before Tom could answer, he heard his father’s
voice : —

‘Be quiet — be quiet — the cat!”

Tom looked down. ‘The cat was coming. He could
see her eyes gleam !

She came creeping through the grass, toward the
tree. His father was darting about her head. His
mother began to scold her. Tom chirped in fright.
What could he do? He did not know how to fly!
Now, the little boy, Willie, was not far off. He heard
the noise of the birds, and he saw the cat.

He came running back, and carried puss away. Tom
had never felt so thankful in his life!

“Boys are not so bad, after all,” he thought, as he
saw Willie shutting the cat in the barn.

Tom sat on his bough all alone. He could hear the



46 TWILIGHT STORIES.



birds above him chirping over their supper, but he
could not be with them in the nest.

“T must sleep here in the dark, —by myself, —all
night!” Tom was thinking. Then he tried to be brave.
His mother came down to feed him again. ‘ Never
mind, Tommy,” she said, “you will soon learn to fly!”

“Qh, shall I?” cried Tom. “I mean to try again,
to-morrow!” And so he did. Before the week was
over, he could fly as well as older birds!

—-0£03 0.0——_

RAY’S SACRIFICE.

Thump! thump! thump! Prince was wagging his
tail against the porch floor. “Ray must be coming
back,” said Mrs. Gray, glancing at the clock. Mrs,
Gray was Ray’s mother. She had sent him on an
errand. Prince sprang up with a glad bark, as he
saw Ray near the gate; then bounded out to meet
his little master. |

How pretty he looked waiting there inside the fence !
He stood looking up at Ray with his soft, brown eyes.

“ Hello, Prince,” the boy said, as he opened the gate,
while the dog barked and frisked along before him.



“TWILIGHT STORIES. AT



Prince had been Ray’s dog ever since he was a
puppy. Ray had found him Christmas morning inside
one of his new boots. How long ago that seemed to
Ray! His father had worked, then, in the shop, and
his mother did not need to sew.

Now, they were poor,—very poor! His father was
away hunting for work. Their money was almost gone.
His mother earned a little with her needle. Ray had
been to get the pay for her work. He hurried into
the house. Prince followed close at his heels.

Mrs. Gray looked up with a smile. She was pleased
that he had been so prompt. ‘You were gone such
a little while,” she said, as Ray handed her the money
he had brought.

Mrs. Gray took it and counted it. ‘Is this all?”
she asked.

Ray nodded “Yes,” while the tears were coming in
his mother’s eyes.

“T thought they would have given me more, this
time!” she said; “there is not enough here to pay
the rent!”

Then, her head dropped on her hand, and Ray knew
that she was crying. Prince knew it, too! He came



48 TWILIGHT STORIES.



and laid his head in her lap, and licked her hand, and
whined softly.

Ray went and knelt down at his mother’s side. “0
Mamma, don’t, don’t cry!” he said. “Let me help
you, Mamma dear! Can’t I do something? I am
nearly eight!”

His mother put her arm around him, and drew fi
closer. She did not speak. But, by and by, she looked
up and kissed him. Then she rose to prepare supper.
Ray sat down by the fire to think.

What would happen if they could not pay the rent?
Would they be turned out into the street? Ray would
not ask his mother, but he felt sure that they would!
It was cold weather, too! Poor Ray began to shiver.
Oh, if only he were larger! He had tried so often to
find work, but every one had thought he was too little.

What if he should sell something, — something all
his own? Maybe he could help in that way. But
Ray could think of nothing that would do to sell.
Nothing ? ——

He looked across and called to Prince, who lay doz-
ing with his paws stretched out before him. Prince
opened his eyes, and came and stood by Ray. The



TWILIGHT STORIES. 49



boy put his arms around him, and leaned his cheek
against him. ‘You are getting thin, old fellow!”
he said, for he could feel the dog’s bones through
his thick hair.

When Ray’s father was at home, he had always
given him money to buy meat for Prince. But lately,
the dog had been living upon bread.

‘Poor Prince,” the boy said; ‘I wish I had some
meat to give you! Are you very hungry?” But
Prince only wagged his tail, and looked around as if to
say: “No matter if I am, only let me live with you!”

Ray did not eat much supper. When Mrs. Gray
noticed it, and asked what was the matter, he said:
“T thought I would give what was left to Prince,
Mamma!”

But his mother could not bear to have him do with-
out his supper, so Ray ate some more to please her.

He went to bed early, but he could not go to sleep.
He was thinking. ‘My Papa isn’t here,” he said at last,
to himself, “and my Mamma needs the money ; / ought
to help her, now, —myself!’’ Then he fell asleep.

The next morning at breakfast Ray looked very



50 TWILIGHT STORIES.



sober. He helped his mother about her morning
work. Then he asked if he might go to see Miss
Merle. His mother looked surprised. Miss Merle was
his Sunday-school teacher. She lived in a large, fine
house away up-town.

“Why do you want to go there, Ray?” asked his
mother.

“TJ thought,” answered Ray,—and the tears would
come, — “I thought I should let her buy Prince!”

Then he could bear it no longer. He leaned his
| i *—- breast, and sobbed as if his

heart would break !

| ' han _ head against his mother’s
1



Miss Merle felt
very gay that morn-
ing. She was going
to give a party. She
had been busy writ-
ing pretty notes.

She came to the
window and glanced
up and down _ the



TWILIGHT STORIES. 54

street. She saw Ray coming an his dog. She waved
her hand to him, and went to let him in, herself.

“Come in, Ray,” she said; “I am very glad to see
you! Let Prince come in, too! Would he shake hands
with me?”

She placed her hand on the dog’s head as she spoke,
and Prince wagged his tail in greeting. Ray could see
that Prince was going to be friendly. He was often
cross to strangers, but he sat up, and shook hands
with Miss Merle, as soon as they had come into
the hall.

Miss Merle laughed, and said that she would like
to have that dog; and then Ray told her that he
had come to sell him!

Miss Merle was surprised. She had wanted the
dog for a long time, but Ray had said that he would
never, never, part with him!

Ray told her, now, how much they needed money.
Miss Merle was sorry and she bought the dog. She
promised Ray to care for him herself. She gave him
meat while Ray was there. He went with her to see
where Prince would sleep. Ray left him there and
went away.



52 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Prince was his dog no longer. He hurried down the
street with the money for his mother.

He could pay the rent now; he, — a little boy!

He ran into the house. His mother sat there sew-
ing. How sad and tired she looked as she bent above
her work.

He closed the door. His mother had been weeping.
He came and dropped the money in her lap. She
looked at him in silence. Her face was full of pity.
How hard it was that he should part with Prince!

‘Here, Mamma,” he cried, ‘see what Miss Merle
gave me for him!”

She took the money in her hand. Her face shone
with her joy. It seemed to Ray the trouble had
slipped away that moment.

He had never felt as happy in his life!



TWILIGHT STORIES. 53



BLUEBELLS.

Dainty little flower bells, do the Fairies
ring you,

When their supper’s ready in the dewy
shade ?

Does the tinkle, tinkle, of your silver
chiming

Waken little Lady Bug, and make her
feel afraid ?

Ring, little bluebells, in the breezes
blowing ;

Softly ring a lullaby, and soothe her }\
in her bed! Cu

Hush again to slumber everything 1 a
that waketh ; :

While the watchful little stars keep winking overhead !








54 TWILIGHT STORIES.



HOW PINCH LOST A CLAW.

“Q Aunt Bertha,” called Ted from the brook, “here
is a crayfish that has a broken claw!”

‘Bring it to me, Ted,” said his Aunt. Ted came,
holding it by the back. ‘See, Auntie, he has been
hurt,” said Ted.

“Yes,” said his Aunt; “maybe I know how it
happened!”

“© tell us,” cried Blanche, dropping her shells in
the sand.

“Yes, do!” chimed Tod, sitting down to listen.

Aunt Bertha placed the crayfish in a pan of water,
where they could watch him, and then she told this
story : —

“When this crayfish first hatched out, he was soft
all over. He had more brothers and sisters than he
could count. They were there with him, for they all
hatched out about the same time.

“The Mother crayfish took care of them while they
were little. She kept them under her tail. They
liked to cling to her, and ride all about! Even after



TWILIGHT STORIES. 55



they began to swim, they ran back to her whenever
they were tired or frightened. She liked to have them
come. She never thought them any bother. Before
they left her, she taught them craytish manners.

“ is food in the water for all of us, so don’t grab from
others, but hunt for yourselves. Just see the snails
and tadpoles. No crayfish need go hungry in this
creek !’

‘She stopped and caught a tadpole, and showed them
how to do it. ‘The first thing you do,’ she said, ‘find
a shady stone. Every crayfish needs a home in time
of danger. When you molt, stay out of sight until
your shell is well hardened. Some creature might
eat you, while you look soft!’

“The little crays all promised to be careful. One day
this little fellow, whose name is Pinch, sat under his
stone portico watching an old crayfish who lived near.

“<«T shall not be as big as he is,’ thought Pinch,
‘until I have molted five or six times. How shiny his
back is! He hasn’t eaten all of that frog yet. I won-
der how it tastes! I never catch frogs. It wouldn’t
be safe to grab a piece, of course. Besides, I wouldn’t



56 TWILIGHT STORIES.



grab. Mother said not to grab. The old craytish
doesn’t see me. I wonder if he isn’t fast asleep! He
doesn’t eat his breakfast. I don’t believe he likes
frog. I wonder if I should like it! I might as well
eat it if he doesn’t!’

“Pinch began to swim quietly toward the frog. It
had been dragged under the edge of a stone. The old
crayfish did not move as Pinch came up. Pinch
watched him all the time. When he was near, he
waited to see what the old crayfish would do.

“<«He does not see me yet,’ thought Pinch, and he
seized one of the frog’s soft legs with his largest
pinchers.

“But as soon as the frog’s body shook, the old cray-
fish darted after Pinch. Oh, how fierce he looked! He
caught Pinch by the claw. Pinch wanted to back off,
but the old crayfish held him fast. He pulled and
twisted, and at last his claw came off, and he dodged
back into his cellar before the giant could stop him.

“How glad he was to be safe.at home again! He
stayed there all the rest of that day. He did not dare
to come out! :

‘He lives now on snails and worms that he finds



TWILIGHT STORIES. 57



close to his door. He will not go far from home, until
his pincher has grown out, but it is growing very fast.

“He wishes the old crayfish would move farther
down the creek!”













































“Why, Auntie,” cried Blanche, ‘let us move Pinch
up the creek.” So the children carried him away where
the giant could not find him. ‘The water here is very
shallow,” said Blanche, ‘and there are no big crayfish
to hurt him.”

Ted found a stone for him to live under while his
broken claw was growing, and they left him, in the
quiet shade, to grow his claw in peace.



58 TWILIGHT STORIES.

WAHTASSA.

Wahtassa was a little Indian boy. He lived here
in this country when it was a forest. He had no
playmates but the creatures of the wood. These were
all his friends.

He knew where the bees were storing honey. He
had seen the beaver as he built his dam. He had
found the cave where the bears slept in winter. He
had fed the bass and trout, that swam the running







TWILIGHT STORIES. 59

stream. Not a little singing bird but answered to
his call. ©



One day, his father gave him a bow and some
arrows. ‘Go into the woods, Wahtassa, and bring
me back some game,” he said. ‘

Wahtassa sped away into the thickest forest. His
heart was singing like the lark. As he hastened on,
a squirrel came from out a hollow oak, and stood to
look at him.

Wahtassa stopped. He drew his bow to aim. How
still the morning was! How deep the shadows! The
little squirrel did not move. But Wahtassa left him
and went on. He did not shoot.

A timid rabbit stopped before his path. It did not
feel afraid. It knew Wahtassa. A robin chirped and
sang above his head, and watched to see if any grain
were left. The boy had often fed him. Everywhere,
his little friends came out to meet him.

Wahtassa went back slowly to the tent.

“The game!’ his father said, ‘where is the panne? 2

Wahtassa handed him the bow. ‘When I had
drawn the cord,” he said, “and would have shot, I
could not kill the creatures of the wood!”



GO TWILIGHT STORIES.



His father frowned and handed back the bow.
“Kall that which is for food,” he said, ‘and leave in
peace thy playmates of the wood. Now go!”

Wahtassa turned back with a lighter heart. He
bounded down the paths he knew so well, and called
in greeting to the friends he loved.

A little robin, that had feared to fly, came fluttering
downward at Wahtassa’s cry. He stopped to lift it to
a cedar bush that grew beside a cave near to his path.

There was a rustling of the leaves within. He heard
a low growl, and he saw the gleam of bright eyes
through the branches, in the cave. He clutched his
bow!
Wahtassa was as fleet as any deer. He could run
homeward without fear of harm. Dare he stand still
and face his hungry foe? What would his father say,
on his. return, if he should come back with his bow
untried ?

Wahtassa’s heart beat high! He took fair aim, and
while the bear came crashing through the brush, he
sent the singing arrow through his heart. The bear
fell dead. How brave Wahtassa felt!



TWILIGHT STORIES. 64



His shout sent echoes to his father’s tent. His
father heard, and came to meet his son.

His frown was gone. ‘You have done well,” he
said; ‘‘Wahtassa has the spirit of a Brave!”

A DAY IN BROWNIE LAND.

One time, in spring,

The Brownie King
Invited Fairy-land,

To come and view

The tricks they do,
Among the Brownie-band.



Where, ’neath the trees,
May-apple leaves

Grow like a shady tent,
The Brownies come

With fife and drum,

When on their didoes bent.





62 TWILIGHT STORIES.



But, first, they send

And ask their friend,
The spider, to assist ; —
She quickly weaves

A web trapeze,

As tight as she can twist.



And, near the ground,

She spins around

Hach pretty, slender stalk,
A net, to catch, |
Without a scratch, a |,



eS EUR Ty,
The ones who make a balk. ~ ~ Ni hoe
Nice Wis



And, oh, the fun!

They leap and run;

They hang from toe and chin;
They somersault

In backward vault ; —

Like tops, they seem to spin!





TWILIGHT STORIES. 63



They climb a pole,
They hop and roll;

_ And, in the afternoon,
With harp, and flute,
And parachute,

They rise in a balloon.



It is a day

When all are gay;

For, when the show is done,
Each man who tries,
Receives a prize,

Instead of only one.



At set of sun,

They give each one,

Tied up with leaf and vine,
A suit of clothes ; —

The kind that grows

Upon a columbine !





64 TWILIGHT STORIES.

And, at the ball,

The Brownies all

Are dressed in red and buff ;
And Fairies say



That this one day,



They’ve all had fun enough !

——>-059400——__

THE FAIRY’S GIFT.

In the parlor, sat little Carl at his piano. A frown
was on his face. His tears were falling fast upon the
keys. He did not like music. He was thinking: “I
wish I might go out into the country and pick berries,
as Carol does. I do not like to be rich! I wish
Mamma had never given me this piano!”

In a swing, under the beech tree, sat Carol in her
faded dress. The tears were in her eyes. “I wish I
had a piano, as Carl has,” she thought. “I wish my
Papa were rich, as his! Why is my Papa not rich?
If Mamma should give me a piano, what pretty tunes
I could play!” Carol clasped her hands in delight, at
the thought of such a fortune.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 65



“Car-ol!”’ came a voice; it was her mother, calling
her. It must be time to go to work. Carol had found
a way to earn some money. She picked berries, in the
country, at two cents a quart. She ran into the house
for her bonnet, and started off, singing as she went.



A river flowed at the back of the garden where Carol
lived. On its bank was a willow tree. The branches
of this tree grew low, and spread out so that they made
a seat where Carol could sit.



66 TWILIGHT STORIES.



She often came and sat there in the twilight. She
liked to hear the water.

One evening Carol sat in her tree, singing softly as
the waves! She was watching a patch of sunlight in
the water before her. It seemed as if the water rose
higher there than anywhere else.

As she looked, the sunny water began to dash about.
Then, from the white foam, a tiny object, not much
larger than a dragon fly, rose and fluttered to the bank,
at her feet.

It was a little lady dressed in rainbow tints. The
water drops were dripping from her wings. She stood
smiling at Carol. At last she spoke. .

“Ts this the little girl who likes to sing?” she
asked. Carol smiled back at the lady and nodded
her head.

“T have brought you a pretty toy from Fairy-land.
It is the kind we use to train our voices. It will guide
you in your singing, if you listen.”

She handed Carol a tiny, silver harp.

‘When I am gone,” she said, “hold it to your lips,
and whisper these words : —



TWILIGHT STORIES. 67



Sound your note,
Silver throat,
Bring the nightingales !

Then, it will play for you; and, by and by, if you
listen, you will know the pretty tunes and may sing
them all, yourself! You may keep the harp until your
next birthday.” Then she smiled again, and flew back
into the sunbeams, and out over the water, — away,
away, until Carol could see her no longer.

Carol sat looking at the toy in wonder. There was
silver lace work around the frame. The strings were
as fine as spider’s web. What if she should break it!
She was almost afraid to touch it. But she longed to
hear it play. She must hear the Fairy music!

She placed it to her lips and whispered low : —

Sound your note,
Silver throat,
Bring the nightingales !

At first she heard nothing. She held her breath to
listen. There was a faint sound that seemed to come
from over the seas. Then it grew louder and stronger,
until it seemed to Carol that the nightingales were



68 . TWILIGHT STORIES.



singing in the treetops over her head. She wished
it might never stop. She had never heard such music!

“Oar-ol, Car-ol!’” called her mother. The silver
harp stopped playing. Carol waited, hoping that it
might begin again. But the harp was silent. Carol
was to learn that ‘Silver throat” would never sing
after mamma called.

The next day Carol felt very gay, even while she
picked berries, in the hot sun. She was thinking of
the music she had heard the night before. Sometimes
she hummed simple airs that she remembered. Very
soon she could remember better. She would listen to
the harp every night; the next day, she could sing the
tunes herself.

She trilled and rippled the silvery notes till the
mocking birds stopped singing, and tilted their heads
to listen !

Besides the bird music, the harp would sing songs
for Carol; and the voice that sang always sounded like
that of the Fairy.

One day a fine carriage stopped at Carol’s door.
Carl’s mamma had come to ask if she could buy their



TWILIGHT STORIES. 69



bird. ‘We have no bird,” said Carol’s mamma; “you
must have heard my little girl; she loves to sing.”

Then the lady asked if Carol might not come to her
house and sing some day, —and Carol went.

The next time Carl’s mamma gave a party she asked
Carol to come and sing for her friends. After that,
other ladies did the same. They always paid the
little girl.

Carol could earn money for her mamma!

One night the Fairy came back for her harp. She
asked Carol if she would sing for her. Carol was very
glad to sing for the kind Fairy. She sang with all her
heart! When she was done the Fairy said: ‘You have
listened well, sweet little maid,— you have learned ;
you need the harp no longer!”

So, she took the harp; and, before Carol could thank
her, she had fluttered off again; but, as she went, the
air was filled with the music of her song. Carol sat
still, listening, until the last note died away.

Years afterward, when she had grown to be a great
singer, Carol sang the Fairy’s song before the (Queen.



70 TWILIGHT STORIES.



THE CAT’S DREAM.

“Mamma, what does kitty dream about?” asked
Tommy.

‘“T don’t know, I am sure,” answered Mamma. Tom-
my sat looking at the cat. She was moving her jaws
in her sleep.

“But what does kitty dream about, Mamma?” he
asked again. This time Mamma made no answer. She
did not like to have Tommy tease. But the little boy
came and slipped his arm around her neck, saying,
“You can tell, Mamma, if you try!”

Then Mamma laughed. «You don’t want another
story !”’ said she.
“Yes, I do, Mamma,” answered Tommy. ‘Please

tell a story till the rain stops!”

Mamma felt sorry for Tommy because he had been
sick and could not play out of doors: She sat very
still for several minutes, without saying anything.
Whenever she did this, Tommy knew he was to have
a story. So he stood by her side, waiting.

“When kitty first cuddled down by the fire,” Mamma



TWILIGHT STORIES. Th:



began, ‘she felt very drowsy and was soon fast asleep.
Before long a little boy came into the room and slammed
the door behind him. That woke her. But the fire
made a soft purr-
ing noise in her
ears, and in a few
minutes she was
dreaming.

“Tt seemed as
if she were out in
the barn. Mice
were running from one end of the barn to the other;
but she could do nothing to stop it. She could not
move a paw! She wanted to run, and spring upon
them, but she could not do it. She tried again, and
again, —it was of no use.

“The mice began to grow saucy. They would scam-
per around her in a circle. Then one little fellow dared
the rest to run as close to her nose as he did. Then
they all did it.

«Puss took her paw and tried to strike them. But
they would dodge every time, and go squeaking past
her without getting a scratch.





72 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“Puss felt ashamed. She had never, till then, heard
mice make such a racket.

‘“ At last, some old rats, who had peeped at the frolic
before, began to join in the fun, too, playing Leap Frog
over her back.

“Then puss could stand it no longer. She said to
herself : —

“¢T will do it; I will catch the leader of those daring
mice!’ There he was, coming closer. Puss sum-
moned all her strength. She sprang at him. She
caught him. She tossed him up toward the rafters!
Before he came down, all the other mice were in their
holes, and not a rat was to be seen!

“Kitty seized little mousie, and shook in when
he fell. Then she left him on the floor, and waited.
She could see the shining eyes of the other mice
peeping at her. Not one of them dared now to
come out!

“Soon, mousie began to move very quietly toward
his hole. Kitty saw him all the time, though she did
not seem to look. She meant to show those es
what a cat like her could do!

‘“Mousie was half way across the floor, before puss



TWILIGHT STORIES. 73



even stirred. Then she began to creep toward him,
going faster and faster. Just as mousie was about
to run into his hole, she pounced upon him.

“Then she began teasing him, slapping him with her
paws, and biting him until he squeaked. Cats don’t
know any better. It isn’t cruel for cats to tease.
They cannot think how much they hurt their prey!

“Kitty was dreaming of eating mousie, when you
saw her jaws move. Now she is catching another.
Watch her tail move!”

As Mamma stopped talking, kitty wakened from her
dream. She stretched her paws and yawned, showing
her sharp, white teeth. Then she rose and walked
toward the door.

“Me-ow,” she said, and looked at Tommy. Tommy
knew that she was asking to be let out. He went to
the door and opened it.

The rain had stopped. Kitty walked slowly out.
Tommy watched her as she went down the path
- toward the barn.

“She is going to find those mice, Mamma!” Tommy
said, as he saw kitty enter the door.



T4 TWILIGHT STORIES.

BLUE GENTIAN.

“ Beautiful gentian, don’t I know
Why you chose this place to grow?

‘Here you can lean o’er the waters, ‘cool,
i And see yourself in the glassy pool!

Rae }
Nt
N

KY /

‘“Doesn’t your beauty make you vain,
Mirrored in its depths so plain?”





“Nay, little maid,” it answers low,
‘Never a gentian looks below ; —

“They always look high overhead ; —
They look at the blue of the sky,
instead !”





TWILIGHT STORIES. 75



JACK FROST.







a One night in spring Jack
Frost was riding on the wind.

“JT shall have to go North very
soon,” he said, “but I wish to have
some more fun first!”

The wind whistled three times. Jack
looked down and saw the pretty white
tops of the cherry trees.

“J ghall stop here,” he said; “I would
like to play with the cherry blossoms
to-night; how beautiful they look in the moon-
light!”

He sprang out upon the tree. The cherry
boughs were rocking in the wind. The white petals
were fluttering to the ground. Jack thought they
looked like snowflakes. aa

The wind swept on. The Mother Cherrytree began
to shiver. She had felt Jack Frost. She knew him
when he touched her tender leaves. She did not
like him.



76 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Jack said: ‘Hello, Mrs. Cherry, I have come for a
frolic with the children!”

Then he began. He did not wait for Mother Cherry-
tree to answer him. In a moment, he was pinching
and biting the Cherry-babies who were lying in their
little cribs.

O how the mother sighed and waved her boughs!
She wished that the clouds would put out the lights!

She called to Jack to stop his pranks. She told him
_ he was rough about his play. |

“Q Pll not hurt them,” Jack called back in glee.

He was searching through the leaves that he might
nip their little bodies. How soft they felt!

“This is rare sport,” cried Jack.

He would have killed them all that night, but gentle
South Wind came and drove him off.

She rustled softly
EL through the cherry
He ~~ boughs, and smoothed
” the Cherry-babies’ rumpled caps.
‘ Good Mrs. Cherry waved her boughs
#2 in joy. ‘When South Wind comes,” she cried,
“Jack Frost must go!”









TWILIGHT STORIES. 77



PINE BLUFFS.

Amy Brown lived with her mother at “Pine Bluffs”
on the lake. The pine forests grew all around. It
was a lonely place, but Amy loved it very dearly. The
wind in the tree-tops, the waves on the beach, were
like voices of friends to her.

How strong the wind must be, Amy thought, to make
such music! Did the flowing waves never erow tired ?
She loved to stand and watch them from the shadow of
the forest.

The wind tossed her hair, and blew against her
cheek; the waves dashed their spray over her. She
sang in her joy, and felt as free as the birds that
soared above her.

Amy and her mother stayed at “Pine Blufis” all the
winter and took care of Mr. Burns’ house. Mrs. Burns
and the children came up there every summer, but
they went away again in the fall.

When the children came to “ Pine Bluffs,” they made
Amy feel unhappy. How fair and dainty they were!



78 . TWILIGHT STORIES.



Their dresses were pretty,, but hers were coarse and
plain. She was tanned, too, by the wind and sun.
She thought of herself, then, as an ugly weed by the
side of fine garden flowers.

O if she were rich, too, and could wear gloves and
sashes! Would the other children play with her then?

The only one among them who noticed little Amy
was a tall boy whose name was Ben. He came there
for sport. Amy knew the woods and meadows. She
could tell him where to find quail or trout. She was
never afraid to help him with his sailboat. She knew
where the water-lilies grew.

Ben was glad to have her with him, and when her
chores were over, they would go off together every day.

One fine morning Erla and her sisters had carried
their dolls out on the porch. The two smaller girls
were taking one of the dolls out for a walk; Erla
held hers up to see it. The other dolls were asleep
in their cribs.

Amy came down from upstairs, where she had been
helping to put the girls’ room in order.

She was barefoot, — but she was neat and clean.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 79

























She came and stood near the girls, looking at their
dolls, and wishing she could hold one in her arms.

The little girls saw her, but they went on with their
play without saying anything to her.

Ben came up. ‘Why doesn’t Amy play, too?” he
asked. The little girls looked at each other without
speaking, while Amy ran off to the woods to hide her
tears !

“T don’t like the way you treat that girl!” Ben
cried, as soon as he was sure she could not hear.



80 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“ Why, Ben, we didn’t say one word!” answered Erla.

“Why, no, you didn’t even speak to her!”

“Well, you know she never plays with ws!”

“Why not? She’s nearly your age!”

«She has to work!”

«“ She needs play all the more!”

“Why, Ben,” said Erla, with a toss of her head and
a curling of her lips, “she goes barefoot!”

Ben watched Erla, and thought how ugly she looked
when she felt proud and showed it in her face.

« Amy never looks like that, if she does go barefoot;
she has gentle ways, if she is poor!”? And Ben went
off to find little Amy, and ask her to go and sail with
him.

Ben had promised to take the girls, some day, in his
sailboat to an island not very far away. It was a
pretty island! There were berries growing on it. Amy
had told Ben about it, and he had been there to see.
The berries were just ripe, and they wished to have
a picnic before the birds gathered them all.

“Were there very many berries?” Erla asked of Ben.

“Yes, bushels!” said Ben; ‘and fine ones, too!”



TWILIGHT STORIES. 84



‘“Maybe Amy can gather enough for our dinner,”
said Hrla, who thought Amy ought not to go along.
But Ben said that, to-day, each one must wait upon
himself; and they all carried baskets when they started
for the boat.

Ponto followed them to the dock, barking and whin-
ing, so Ben said that he should go, too.

What a happy day it was! There were tall flowers
on the island, and ferns, and drooping grasses grew
around. Birds flew down to the bushes as the children
gathered berries. They ate and sang, and did not seem
afraid.

The girls found one bird that had a broken wing;
so they made a bed of moss for him, and fed him
cake and berries. Louise gave him milk, too, from a
silver spoon.

Ponto chased the squirrels, barked at the flying
birds, and ran about after Ben. Every one of them
had a gay time!

When Ben said they must start home, the children
were all sorry. ‘ Why can’t we stay a little longer,
Ben?” Erla asked.



82 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Ben said that the wind was rising and they must go
at once. They all hurried off to the boat.

How fast they skimmed over the lake! The wind
almost took the children’s breath.

“Take care of your hats!” Ben called; but it was
too late. Erla’s hat blew off into the water. Ponto
sat at her feet. He could see the hat floating. He
gave a spring. He meant to swim and get it. Amy
saw him. She knew that he might tip them into the
water, if he did not keep quiet in the boat. She
caught him by the collar, and pulled him back again.

“Let him alone!” cried Erla in anger. The boat
rocked and dipped water. ‘Keep quiet!’ Ben called.
“Amy won’t let Ponto get my hat,” sobbed Erla.
« Amy does right!” answered Ben; ‘you mind her.”

The wind blew harder. The children felt afraid.
They all began to cry except Amy. She did as Ben
told her, and helped him all she could. He was busy
all the time with the sails.

When the boat was tipping, she made them sit up
on one side. When the water splashed in, she dipped
it out with her tin bucket.

By and by, they were safe at home again! Then the



TWILIGHT STORIES. 83



other children said they would have sunk, if little
Amy had not been with them to help Ben with the
boat!

Krla gave her a fine doll, and now she comes every
morning to play with them, when her work is done.

JOE’S BILLY GOAT.

Joe’s Billy goat had been sent to the country to
stay all summer. Joe’s Mamma was very glad to have

him go. Billy was glad, too,
now that he was there. He _
had fresh clover to eat, in- 2 Z
stead of dry hay. He had
not drawn that cart with
the three boys in it since
he came. He had not even seen a boy!

He was never teased any more. There were no
callers to butt over, as there had been in the city,
but Billy did not care if there were not. He was
growing fat and lazy, and he did not miss such fun.
He would rather sleep now than fight.





84 TWILIGHT STORIES.



He never had fought when Joe first bought him, but
he had been teased so much since, that he had grown
—so the boys said — ‘‘very cross!”’ Was it cross to butt
those boys when he had grown tired of their teasing ?
Billy saw no harm in that! Nothing else ever made
them go away. But those times were all over now.

He chewed his cud and dreamed about fighting, but
he led a very quiet life.

Beyond Billy’s pasture there was a fine orchard.
Billy hiked to go there in the heat of the day to take
his nap.

The apples were still green; no Billy goat would eat
them. He only went there for the quiet shade.

The only sound was the humming of the bees, and
that always made Billy drowsy.

One day as he was dozing, well hidden by the grass,
he woke, all at once, with a start. He had heard a
boy’s voice. He was sure that he had heard it! Or
did he dream ?

He looked across the field. There in the tall clover
were two boys from the city. They were crossing the
brook at the foot of the hill. They were coming to the



TWILIGHT STORIES. 85



orchard to steal apples. They had often teased Billy
from over the fence, for they lived next door to Joe.
He had never met them in an open field.

He waited, and watched them. He could tell they
did not see him. They were looking at the apples,
and began to shake the boughs. The apples were too
ereen to fall.

“We shall have to climb the tree, Jim!” the little
boy said.

“T ghall not,” answered Jim, as he pulled one for
himself.

‘Pull one for me, too!” the little boy cried. But
Jim began eating and pointed to the tree, saying:
“ Apples are plenty, —help yourself!”

But just as he said the last words, something struck
him. Jim did not see what it was, but he fell sprawl-
ing on the ground. He tried to get up, but Billy
knocked him on his back. He rose to his knees, but
down he went again. Bob sprang up the tree. ‘“ Run,
Jim,” he cried; ‘it’s that Billy goat of Brown’s!”

Run, indeed! What chance had he to run? Hach
time, Billy waited until Jim was nearly up, and then
threw him over on the ground.



86 - TWILIGHT STORIES.



Bob slipped from the tree and ran and climbed the
fence. ‘Come on, Jim,” he cried; ‘“let’s go home!”

Jim rolled his eyes toward Billy; there he stood
waiting. The goat thought








it fine sport! ‘I can never
get up unless I have a start,”
Jim thought; ‘it is







Un

not worth while to
try!”

All at once, he began rolling over and over, and
farther, each time, from the goat. He was going down
hill! He began to grow dizzy! He thought he might,
now, dare to rise. As soon as he stood up, the goat

came plunging at him, and over he went into the
brook !



TWILIGHT STORIES. ® 87



Ags he scrambled up the bank on the other side, he
looked to see if Billy were there, too. But the goat -
was eating clover across in the meadow, with his head
turned away from the boys. |

“JT don’t see why the Browns brought their goat out
here!” said Jim, wringing the water from his sleeves.

Bob came up to help him. “ Let’s go back to town,”
he said; ‘“there’s no fun here any more!”

So the boys went away and left Billy there alone.
He did not see them any more that summer.

— 0594 co ——.

THE WIND.

I cannot see

The wind so free,

It goes where’er it will;
It is not bound ; —

No one has found

Its path upon the hill.

It roams around
From sky to ground ;
It whirls the leaves about.



88

TWILIGHT STORIES.



I hear its cry
Sink to a sigh, —
And rise into a shout.

Oh, winds that sweep
Across the deep,

May I not go along?

I should delight

In such a flight

Upon your breezes strong !

If I should fly

With you up high,

Upon your wings of might,
Would you refuse

If I should choose

To come down for the night?

Will you not speak ?

Yon branches creak ;

A moan comes from the glen ;
I dare not go!

How do I know

I could come back again ?



TWILIGHT STORIES. 89



THE BLACK MITE.

‘‘Mamma,”’ cried Charley, as he came running into
the house, ‘make Johnny quit teasing me!” — then
he stopped. Mamma was not in the room.

Uncle Frank was sitting by the fire alone. He
looked up from his book, as Charley came in. It was
the third time that afternoon that the boy had left his
play to complain about his playmates.

“Your mother ought to have you focused, Charley,”
said Uncle Frank. Charley blushed. He did not
know what his uncle meant, but he thought that he
was laughing at him.

“Why don’t you visit the Black Mite. It would do
you good!”

“Who is the Black Mite? I never heard of him,”
said Charley.

“He is a queer little fellow who likes to focus chil-
dren. He lives down under the ground.”

Charley looked as if he did not believe it. “ Where,
under the ground?” he asked, coming nearer. :

“ Over that way,” said his uncle, nodding toward the



90 TWILIGHT STORIES.



woods. ‘If you should go to the spot where the sun
sets at night, you could find him there, playing with
the children.”

Charley laughed. ‘How does he look?” he asked.

Uncle Frank thought a moment, then he said: ‘“ His
face, if I remember, is round and black. He is small,
—no taller than you are. If it were not for his beard,
you might take him for a boy.”

“Did you ever see him, Uncle Frank?” asked Charley.

But Uncle Frank did not seem to hear this question.
‘‘His dress is very fine. He wears more diamonds than
a king!” °

‘He must be rich,” said Charley.

‘Yes, he is,” said Uncle Frank ; “ but he is wise, too.
You ought to see him. He can tell children whether |
they are bad or not.”

“7 haven’t been bad, Uncle Frank,” cried Charley ;
“it was the other boys who were bad!”

Uncle Frank smiled, and looked straight at Charley.
Then he said: ‘“ We can’t always tell, ourselves, when
we are bad. The Black Mite knows how to show us.”

“J don’t like the Black Mite, and I shall never go to
see him,” said Charley, with a frown.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 91



“Don’t be too sure about that,” said his uncle.
“Tet me tell you about a little boy who did go!”

Charley was willing to hear about the other boy.
‘All right!” he said, and sat down.

“Once upon a time there was a little boy named
Rudolph, who started to find the Black Mite. He
walked through a dark forest for a long time. The
path was narrow. Bushes grew on each side. The
sun sank lower and lower, until it slipped down out
of sight. Rudolph could see a green mound where it
went under. He hastened toward it, for he thought,
‘Now I shall see the Black Mite!’

‘Ag he came nearer, he saw steps leading down to
the front door. When he reached the bottom step, he
could read the name upon the door-plate. It was set
in diamonds: ‘ Castle of the Black Mite.’

“ Ag Rudolph stood wondering, the door swung open.
He walked in. The Black Mite came to meet him,
looking just as I have told you. He seemed very
friendly, and Rudolph liked him.

«He is glad that I came,’ thought the boy.

“¢ Would you like to be focused?’ the Black Mite
asked.



92 TWILIGHT STORIES.



‘Rudolph was not certain whether he should like it
or not. ‘Do as you please about it,’ the Black Mite
said; ‘but, first, we will go to the playroom.’



“Rudolph followed him to a large room where many
children were playing. They were very polite to Ru-
dolph, who was a stranger to them. When he was
tired of play, they gave him candy and nuts. They
could go to the pantry whenever they chose.



TWILIGHT STORIES. 93
“By and by the Black Mite said: ‘Now, children,
come to the focusing room.’
‘All the other children were going, so Rudolph felt
like going, too.



“The Black Mite led he way to a large, white room.
A great stream of light was pouring in from a hole at
one side. It shone against a tall, silver slab on the
opposite wall. The sides of the room were as spar-
kling as a snow drift.

‘As the children came in, they sat down in a semi-
circle, on chairs that were fast in the floor. Then the
Black Mite stepped in front of them. ‘Who will come
first?’ he asked. But no one spoke, and no one came
forward.

«“*VYou come, Georgie,’ the Black Mite said; and a
little boy who was eating peanuts, rose from his seat.

'«The Black Mite led him to a platform in the centre
of the group. As soon as Georgie stood upon the plat-
form, everybody looked toward the silver slab.

“ Georgie’s shadow showed upon it. At first, it was
a very black shadow; but soon it began to grow dim.

“ ~ began to count the children.



94 [TWILIGHT STORIES.



“<«Oh, see it now!’ cried a little boy who sat near
him in the row. Rudolph looked again and saw that
letters were forming upon the slab.

‘“« What makes the letters come?” he asked.

“<«Why,’ said the boy, ‘his thoughts make them
come, of course! Whatever he thinks the most, is sure
to show upon the slab.’

“Then Rudolph began to watch for the words, won-
dering what they would be. All the gray of the shadow
shaped itself into one sentence : —

GIVE ME SOME MORE.

“When the Black Mite saw it, he smiled and pointed
to Georgie’s pockets. ‘They are both full already,’ he
said; ‘do you want still more?’

“The room was silent. Georgie hung his head in
shame. He had never known before that he was
greedy. Rudolph turned to the boy who sat at his
side. ‘Does the light, shining through, print his
thoughts?’ he asked. His friend nodded ‘Yes’; he
was looking at the slab.

“* Watch that other boy,’ he said, with a quick glance



TWILIGHT STORIES. 95



at Rudolph. But Rudolph was thinking about Georgie.
‘What made him go up there? I shouldn’t have gone,’
he said. ‘He might have known how it would be!’
But his little friend told him that no one ever knew.

“ he asked; and he turned, as he spoke, to look at
Rudolph. Rudolph sat still to think. ‘No,’ he said,
looking up, ‘I can’t tell!’ and they turned again to
watch the slab.

The boy had been focused while they were talking.
They read the words : — .

YOU TAKE IT.

The Black Mite looked pleased. The children
clapped their hands.

“ Rudolph. ‘He was giving his little sister candy.’

“ She went tripping to the platform, smoothing her sash,
and tossing her curls. ‘What beautiful thoughts she
must have!’ said Rudolph. But when the words came
out, he was surprised to read : —



96 TWILIGHT STORIES.





LOOK AT ME.
LOOK AT ME.
LOOK AT ME!

“«Ts that the most she thinks? She isn’t very
pretty,’ said Rudolph, as the little girl walked away.

The next one who came was a shy little girl. The
Black Mite went with her to the platform. Rudolph
thought her shadow small, as it darkened the silver
plate; but the words that grew from it were very
large : —



TWILIGHT STORIES. 97



ES Mie talelie

‘Again the children clapped their hands. Then the
little girl went skipping to her seat.”

Uncle Frank stopped a moment. He looked down |
at Charley, who sat leaning against his chair.

“Did the Black Mite focus you?” he asked in a low
voice.

“Why, Uncle Frank,” cried Charley, ““what makes
you ask?”

‘Because the next boy who came was Charley Bain.”

“Why, that’s my name!” Uncle Frank nodded.
Charley looked puzzled. ‘It must have been another
Charley Bain.”

“No,” said Uncle Frank, “from the way the boy
focused, I am sure it must have been you!”

Charley looked up quickly. What did Uncle Frank
think that he would focus? He felt afraid to ask him,
and yet he must know!

Uncle Frank could tell how Charley felt. He tore a
leaf from his note-book, and wrote a sentence on it.
Then he folded the writing inside, and handed the
paper to Charley.



98 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“Take it out of doors to read it,” he said; “I have
written the words that you focused.”

Charley ran behind the house. What had Uncle
Frank written? He opened the paper and read :—

PLE TELL ON YOU.

“Come on, Charley,” called the boys, who were mak-
ing a snow house in the garden; ‘“ we didn’t mean to
hurt you; come on!”

He crammed the paper into his pocket. “I ama
tell-tale,” he thought. “Tl quit it!” he said aloud,
as he ran to join in the play.

IN THY YOUTH.

O thou dainty Goldilocks, with thy pretty air,
Like a flower that wavereth in the morning fair;
Like a flower that lifteth up

All the fragrance of its cup ‘

To the sun,

In responsive benison : —



Full Text





The Baldwin Library

Sa OT FE TE RCT 1 es SE ree ee es OIE ETAT oat



rere ee eee cree er errr niet Eh Se)
Venere SOs

BY

ELIZABETH HE. FOULKE

SILVER, BURDETT & COMPANY
New Yorr BOSTON CHICAGO
1895
CHOICE SUPPLEMENTARY READING.

The Young Folks’ Library.

For School and Home.



Edited by Larkin Dunton, LL.D., Head Master Boston Normal School.

STORIES OF CHILD LIFE. four Volumes.

1. At Home. III. In the Country.
Il. At Play. IV. At School.

THE WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE. Seven Volumes.

I. First Lessons. IV. Our American Neighbors.
Il. Glimpses of the World. V. Modern Europe.
II. Our Own Country. VI. Life in Asia. (Jn press.)

VII. Views in Africa.

Copyricut, 1895, By Sitver, BuRDETT & ComPANy.

Norwood Press :
J. S. Cushing & Co.— Berwick & Smith.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
PREFACE.

sense
Dear LirrLe CHILDREN : —

These stories are for you. I have tried to put them into
easy words, so that you might read them all yourselves.

I hope that they may give you pleasant thoughts.

I want that you should feel as friends toward the chil-
dren of these stories.

They are little friends of mine, —I wish them to be
friends of yours.

Very truly,

ELIZABETH E. FOULKE.

Ricumonp, Ind., September, 1895.

CONTENTS.

CoLUMBINE

GranpMa’s DoLi

JACK AND HIS FRIEND
Drew anp Rain

THE Liny-Pree

Tommy Toap .

CHILD AND FLOWER

Frre SPRITES

Eruer’s FLOWERS

In Heaven

TomtTiv’s Peer aT THE WORLD
Ray’s SACRIFICE
BLUEBELLS

How Priycu Lost a Ciraw
WAUHTASSA :

A Day iw Brownie Lanp
Tue Farry’s Girt .

Tux Car’s Dream .
BLuE GENTIAN

Jack Frost

Pine Buurrs

Jor’s Bitty Goat

Tur WIND

Tue Buacx Mire

In tuy Yours

PAGE

12
17
18
26
28
29
34
39
41
46
53
54
58
61
64
70
74.
75
77
83
87
89
98

TWILIGHT STORIES.












ae Ae ee
eo ES
f \

COLUMBINE.




















O Columbine, nodding your scar-
let and yellow

\\ In welcome to Honey-bee, hither-
ward flown,

You must have been anxious to
please the old fellow,

To store him his sweets in a

flower honey-comb!

y

Z Za>> f


8 TWILIGHT STORIES.



GRANDMA’S DOLL,

“T haven’t any doll but Rosabel,” Nina was saying.

“You are not tired of Rosabel, are you?” Grandma
asked.

“Q no, not tired of her, Grandma,” answered
Nina; “but her nose does look shabby where baby
kisses her!”

Nina felt half ashamed to speak so of Rosabel,
but she wanted a new doll like her cousin Nellie’s.

The children, Nina and Mary, had been asking for
a doll, but Mamma had said: ‘“‘ No, we can’t afford it!”
“ Nellie has one,

The children had been looking at dolls in the shop

” urged Mary, beginning to cry.

windows, and had chosen the kind they wanted.
Mamma felt sorry for the httle girls, but she said:
“We must all do without some things we want this
year. If Mamma does without a new dress, can’t
you do without another doll?”

The children looked very unhappy.

“You ought to see the kind of doll I used to play

{”

with said Grandma. Nina looked up without
TWILIGHT STORIES. ; 3



speaking. ‘// was never inside a shop window!”
The children’s faces began to brighten. ‘“ What kind
of doll was it, Grandma?” asked Mary, drying her
eyes.

“Tt grew in the garden,” said Grandma; “it had
beautiful flaxen hair. I used to braid Hannah’s hair
in two plaits, and fasten 1t back with thorns.”

“Was Hannah the doll’s name?’ asked Nina.

“Yes, I named her for my mother.”

“But what was she, Grandma?”
asked little Mary.

“Was her face green?” asked
Nina.

“Yes,” said Grandma, “it looked
green to other people!”

“Then,” cried Nina, “I know what



it was! It was corn; now wasn’t it, Grandma?”
“Yes, — Nina has guessed it! It was an ear of
corn in its green husk.”
“Did you make clothes for her?” asked Mary.
“Yes, I made clothes for her, but not with a needle
and thread. Her dress was sycamore leaves, fastened
together with stems. Her shawl was a mullein leaf,
10 TWILIGHT STORIES.



warm and woolly. She wore shiny pink ribbons of
rhubarb skins.” |
“Did she wear a hat?” asked Mary.

“She wore a bonnet
Sa S = made from a honey-
Vs suckle leaf.”
“OQ, I wish I had a
ike that!”





Lt






hy

he i go = =

i
/ if
he

it
fy,
I
“So do I!” chimed Mary, clapping her hands.

Mamma glanced at Grandma, and smiled. “Come,”

she said, looking toward the little girls; “you shall
have some dolls like Grandma’s!”
WILIGHT STORIES. 44



They followed her into the garden, and came back
in high glee.

’ cried Nina; “this is

“Here is one for Harry,’
Ah Sin, the Chinese cook!”

After the dolls were all dressed, the children had a
luncheon under the trees. Mamma and Grandma were
both invited, and they both came.

The girls thought Ah Sin ought to wait on the table,
but Harry did not want to help him, and Ah Sin
could ‘not do it alone!

So they all sat down together, and had a picnic
on the lawn. ‘ Won’t Nellie wish she had a doll
like this?” said Mary, as she passed the berries to
her doll and to Harry’s.

“Tt’s more fun to play with corn dolls than with real
ones,” said Nina; ‘and they don’t cost so much, do
they, Mamma?”
12 TWILIGHT STORIES.



JACK AND HIS FRIEND.

Jack lives at Mr. Felton’s, now. He was a little
waif, once, in a great city. He was often hungry
and cold in those days. He slept in boxes and
barrels in dark alleys. He was only seven years old,
but he had to black boots to earn money.

One day he blacked Mr. Felton’s boots.
He did not know Mr. Felton then. He
hs it}, brushed very hard. Jack tried to do his
Mi, < best. He never stopped until the
lili NX, Reels were as shiny as the toes.










The man looked into
cS, his eyes as he handed
him his pay. ‘‘ Would
you like to go with





LE
Ee

fis
is
= pel 6
SEE Ls NX
ZENG DS









a me to the country to-
morrow?” he asked.
Jack looked to see
whether the man really
meant it. Then a smile spread over his face. He
had never seen the country, but he knew a boy who
I'WILIGHT STORIES. 412



had. The boy had gone on the cars, and it had cost
him a quarter. Jack looked sober. He had only
twenty cents.

“T haven’t money enough, sir!” he said, looking
up. ‘But I have the money, myself,” said the man.
So Jack went.

That was three years ago, and Jack has been living
with Mr. Felton ever since. He has warm clothes to
wear, now. He has his own room, with a pretty bed
in it. He has learned to be of use about the farm.
He feeds the horses every night and morning. He
loves horses! He drives the cows up for Mary to
milk. Mary is his dearest friend. She gives him
cookies between meals.

She showed him how to part his hair straight, the
first day he came. She wears pretty dresses. Her
yellow hair is braided down her back. Her eyes are
blue. She sings while she works. Jack likes to hear
her sing! He always wants to please her. But he
learned to use bad words while he lived in New York.

One time Mary heard him use the bad words. It
frightened Jack to see the way Mary looked. She
44 TWILIGHT STORIES.



asked him to promise her that he would never swear
again. Jack promised.
The next day he asked Mary which were the ‘“ swear



words.” Then they had a long talk, and Jack felt
sure that he would never swear again.
Before they had done talking, Mr. Felton came in.
He told Jack to drive a stray pig back into the pasture.
‘So the little boy hurried away. The pig was eating
clover, and did not wish to leave. Jack chased it all
TWILIGHT STORIES. 415



around the field! When, at last, he let the bars down
and thought it was going through, the little pig turned,
gave a grunt, and ran back !

Then Jack was angry. He followed as fast as he
could. When he came near enough to hit it, he said
some bad words, again.

Now, as soon as the words had left his lips, Jack
remembered.

He stopped very still, while the little pig ran on.
Just inside the gate, he saw Mary standing. He knew,
by her looks, that she had heard. He turned his head
away to hide his tears. He did not say a word, but
Mary could see that he felt sorry. She opened the
vate and came through. “Tl help you, Jack,” she
said, and she walked along with him through the
pink clover, while the pig trotted on before. “We
won’t let him know that we are trying to drive him,”
Mary said.

So they walked very slowly. Jack wanted to tell
Mary how sorry he felt, but he did not know how to
say it. By and by, Mary looked down at him kindly
and said: “ We’ll have to begin over again, won’t we,
Jack?”
16 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Jack knew that she meant about the swearing.
“Yes,” he said, without looking up.

“You must try harder, Jack!”

Jack said nothing. The pig had reached the bars.
It turned and looked at Mary, and then—it walked
through. ‘It did that to please her!” thought Jack.

Mary waited while Jack put up the bars; then they
started back. When they reached the gate, Mary said:
“T wish I could help you to remember, Jack!”

The little boy looked up. Mary’s face was very sad.
‘Every time you swear,” she said, “you must feel
afraid, for God has heard you!” Mary turned and
went into the house. But Jack stood still at the gate.
God was with him there. His soul feared.

—0 0 f,0-0——

DEW AND RAIN.

Nurse Dewdrop waits till evening hours
To wash the pretty baby flowers ;

She cannot bear to hear them weep ; —
She comes when they are all asleep,
And glides among the shadows, deep,
To bathe them in their bowers.
TWILIGHT STORIES. let



When Mother Moon is out of sight,
The Baby Stars all lend their light ;
Nurse Dewdrop rides upon the breeze,
Beneath the shady grown-up trees ;
No bloom so tiny but she sees,

And leaves it clean and bright!

But often, in the open day

The sky above grows ashen gray,

And Thunder-storm comes dashing down,
To wash the dirt from field and town ;
She scrubs the leaves, till Nature’s gown
Is clean, and fresh, and gay!

Each little blossom hangs its head ; —
For, every tender flower must dread
The Thunder-storm, so rude and bold,
That splashes earth from out the mold,
And leaves its rootlets bare and cold,
All shaken from their bed!

So, as old Thunder-storm goes past,
She paints a rainbow at the last.
18 TWILIGHT STORIES.



To make the baby flowers forget

How bent they are, how bruised and wet;
To teach them that they must not fret
When skies are overcast.

For plants, by gentle breezes fanned,
Ave never strong enough to stand ;

They need the strife with wind and rain ;
So, children need the touch of pain,

And ought to smile, and not complain,
While growing brave and grand!

——.0:03.00——_

AE See Y PRE:

“The bubbles won’t stay!’ cried Johnny. There
were tears in his eyes. He had come out on the
lawn to make soap bubbles. Kate and Willie had
been making them before they started for school.
Johnny had been trying to do just as Willie did, but
the bubbles always burst when he tried to toss
them off.

He stood looking across the flower bed toward the
TWILIGHT STORIES. . 19



street. He wished Willie were near enough to come
and help him!
“Why, what is that?” he cried, in surprise. “Is




the sun
: coming down from
<. the sky?” He winked the
7 ~ tears away and looked again.
“Why, it?s a golden bubble, and its coming this
way. It has passed the pine tree, already!”
It sank lower and lower, and when it came near it
broke, and silvery clouds came rolling out of it. In
the midst of the clouds there was a pretty little girl.
20 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Her golden ringlets were as fine and soft as silk.
They blew about her face as she came moving toward
him.

She held a pretty pipe in her hand. ‘Try this,”
she said, smiling and looking at Johnny; ‘the bubbles
blown from it will never break. It will make pretty
pictures from your heart!” Johnny took it gladly.
It looked like a golden lily with a hollow stem. It
was beautiful! How kind the little girl had been to
bring it! Johnny would ask her to stay and play
with him. He looked up. His face was all aglow
with thanks.

But there was no little girl there, —nor any silvery
clouds, — nor golden bubble! Was it a dream?
Johnny half believed it was. “But no, I have the
pipe,” he said; “I shall try it, anyhow!”

The first bubble Johnny blew with his pipe showed
the picture of the little girl who gave it. It did not
float away. It was held fast by a golden thread. ‘The
thread came from the pistil of the lily. As Johnny
blew, the thread grew longer.

“This bubble makes a very pretty kite,” thought
Johnny. He broke the thread and tied it to a lilac
TWILIGHT STORIES. 24

bush. Then he blew another bubble. Soon he had a
dozen of them flying from the bush.

When Johnny had grown tired of his pipe, he put
it away in the garret for awhile. But whenever he
had a pretty thought, he would bring it down again
and blow a bubble.

Johnny hid his bubbles in the garret. He was shy
about having people see them; but he always showed
them to his mother. They would go together and tie
them to the rafters. On one of the bubbles was a
garden of roses, with fairies, like butterflies, flitting
among the flowers.

On another was a white-winged ship upon a golden
sea. There was Columbus kneeling before Queen
Isabella. There were pictures of the stories that
Johnny loved to hear. The faces of the friends he
knew looked fairer in the bubbles.

One bubble seemed to Johnny the prettiest of all.
It showed his mother’s picture as she looked when
he had pleased her!

One day late in the summer Johnny came running
into the house. ‘“O Mamma,” he cried, ‘may I go

in swimming?”
22 TWILIGHT STORIES.



But his mother shook her head. ‘No, Johnny,”
she said, “the water is too cold.”

Now, Johnny had wished to go very much, and,
besides, he hated to tell the boys, who waited at the
gate, that his mother had said he should not go.

The boys had told him when he started to the house,
that they never had to ask to go in swimming! It
took Johnny a long time to walk back to the gate.
He looked down all the way to hide his tears.

“Mamma says I mustn’t go,” he said in a low voice.
He did not dare to look up. He felt ashamed to have
the boys know how he was feeling.

“Why don’t you go anyhow?” asked little Sammie
Horner. He felt sorry for Johnny, and he wanted
him to go. ‘You can slip off through the garden, ©
and she will never know!”

“Yes, we will wait for you by the willow tree,” said
a large boy, the leader of the party.

“No,” said Johnny, “I wouldn’t run off!” He
meant to do right, even if it was hard.

The big boy looked vexed. ‘Well, stay and be a
baby!” he said, as he started down the street. He
hated little Johnny for being a better boy than he
TWILIGHT STORIES. 23



was. So he laughed at him with the other boys.
Johnny could hear them laughing as he ran into the
house.

He was angry, now. How his cheeks burned! His
mother sat sewing at the window. ‘Mamma,’ he
cried, ‘you are real mean not to let me go!”

His mother looked up, but she did not speak.
Johnny wished that she would say something. He
started off upstairs, slamming the door as he went.
He never stopped until he reached the garret.

There hung his pipe among the cobwebs! He had
not seen it for a long time. He took it down and
began to blow a bubble. He had never, before, tried to
make one when he felt cross. He blew hard, and now
a strange thing happened. This bubble, instead of
rising upward as the others had done, hung downward
from the lily bell.

“Tt feels heavy, too,” thought Johnny; ‘I wonder
what’s the matter!” He took the pipe from his
mouth to look. What do you guess he saw upon the
bubble ?

It was a fierce tiger with open mouth showing white,
cruel teeth! It looked eager to bite. “0,” cried
24 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Johnny, covering his eyes with his hands, “I didn’t
know my thoughts would look like that!”

He wished that he could hide the bubble. What
if Mamma should see it! He took it to the window
and broke the thread.



The bubble fell at his feet with a thud. “It will

never fly away,” cried Johnny; ‘ what shall I do?”

He would not ask Mamma. How cross he had been
to her! He leaned against the wall to think. At last
he looked up. “I know what T shall do with it!”
he cried, and he started down the stairs.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 25

The bubble dragged behind him as he ran. He
rushed out of the house and through the garden;



then, on to a pond not very far away.

Standing upon its bank, he took the ugly bubble
in both his hands and threw it far out into the water.
The heavy thing sank down, down, into the mud and
slime! Johnny’s heart was growing lighter all the
time that it was sinking. He watched the circling
ripples as they widened in the water. As he raised
his head his thoughts rose upward. “I can make a
pretty bubble, now!” he cried. He ran gayly to the
garret for his pipe.

O that bubble that he blew, when he had thrown
his bad thoughts from him! I wish you might have
seen it as it floated in the air. Johnny could not
tell, himself, as he blew, what he was making.

When he stopped at last to look at it, his tears
were those of joy.

Upon the airy bubble a silver mist seemed parting,
and an angel with white wings was smiling back at
him!


26 TWILIGHT STORIES.

—

TOMMY TOAD.

I am the toad that lives at Mr. Bain’s. I stay there
because I like Tim. Tim is Mr. Bain’s little boy. He
has a garden of his own. I keep the bugs and worms
off his plants.

Sometimes Tim comes to watch me. I wouldn’t
catch flies before everybody, but I will before Tim.
He is the best boy in the world! He doesn’t know
how I dart my tongue out so quickly. He has seen
me do it, too, hundreds of times. If Acs tongue were
loose in the back, maybe he could understand it!

He can do some things better than I can. He saved
my life last spring. When I first came up from the
river, I hid under Mr. Bain’s doorstep. I meant. to
stay there all day, for it was a cool, shady place.
Tim came down the steps just over my head, and went
whistling out into the garden. The little girls were
busy playing “keep house” in the summer kitchen.
I could hear them laughing and talking. I was sitting
very still catching flies that buzzed near. Tim can’t
sit as still as I can!
TWILIGHT STORIES. 27



All at once, without a sound, and before I had time
to move, I felt the jaws of a snake against my back.
I was sitting in front of his hole. I began to swell
out. How I bowed my legs! But the snake kept on
trying, and I should have been swallowed alive if I
hadn’t called for help. The girls heard my cries and
ran out for Tim. He came with his hoe and killed
the snake. O how scared I was! I was even afraid
of Tim. But he caught me, anyhow, and took me
out into the garden. He built mea little stone house
under a raspberry bush. It was very kind in Tim
to do it, but I always choose my own home, and I did
not stay there long.

I like this garden, though, and shall help Tim here
all summer. I like to watch his plants—he is my
friend.


28 TWILIGHT STORIES.



CHILD AND FLOWER.

Out of the leaf blanket, over her rolled,
Brave little White Blossom comes in the cold.
Isn’t it early for her to unfold?

Here, all a-flutter, she stands in the snow;
“Dear little White Blossom, I’d like to know
Whether the Mother-root said you might grow.”










“Fair little Child Blossom, all of us lie
Snug under mosses and withered leaves dry,
Waiting, in sleep, until Winter goes by.

; 4 ‘“ When, in the sleet and the cold and the rain,

Wk); Children look out through the dim window-pane,

Wishing that flowers would blossom
again —

“Then, Mother-root, from her bed under-
ground,

Wakens us all without making a sound;

Bids us to bloom in the grass all
around.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 29



“Dear little friend, it is cold in the snow;
Take me away, — I’ve been wishing to go.

It was for you that I wanted to grow!”



. ——obgtoo——

FIRE SPRITES.

The children were staying at Grandpa’s: Tom and
Rose and Dick. They were all in the kitchen one
night, around the open fire. Some apples were roast-
ing in the ashes. At one side of the fireplace was
Aunt Flo. She was sitting in a rocking chair. The
fire was throwing shadows on the ceiling. ‘What
shall we do while the apples are roasting?”’ Tom asked
of his little sister Rose.
30 TWILIGHT STORIES.

She whispered in his ear;— Aunt Flo couldn’t hear
it. Then, they both looked at her, and Tom said:
“Won’t you tell us a Fairy story, Aunt Flo?”

Aunt Flo smiled and shook her head. “There is a



prettier story than I can tell blazing in the fire all
the time,” she said.

The children turned to look. “I don’t see anything
but flames,” said Dick, who was lying on the floor
in front of the fire.

“T see smoke,” said Rose. “And sparks,” added
Tom. ;
TWILIGHT STORIES. 31



“You don’t see the Fire Sprites, then?” asked Aunt
Flo, looking into their up-turned faces. The children
shook their heads. ‘No wonder,” said Aunt Flo,
“they are always very shy. They fly away in the
smoke if people watch them!”

Tom shut his eyes and tried peeping, now and then.
At last he looked up. “I don’t see anything much.
What do you see, Aunt Flo?” he asked.

“OQ J don’t see it all, either,” said Aunt Flo, “but
I think I can tell you how it happens.”

“How what happens?” asked Rose.

“How the Fire Sprites, locked up in the wood, are
set free !” :

“O tell us!” cried Rose; “will it be a Fairy story?”

“Yes, a true Fairy story,” said Aunt Flo, looking
at the fire. The great hickory logs had fallen apart,
and blue and yellow flames were darting out. How
they sung, and crackled, and danced!

“The fire is glad, isn’t it, Aunt Flo?” asked Tom.

Aunt Flo shook her head. “The ire Sprites are
glad! How happy they are to be released!” she said.
Then she began this story : —

“This burning log grew, long ago, as a tree in
32 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Grandpa’s woods. It was small and weak then. The
wind could toss its branches, and sway its slender
trunk to and fro. The rain fell softly upon its tender
leaves, and sank into the earth to feed its roots. The
creat sun saw it, and gave it warmth and light. It
grew tall and strong, and bore nuts. Children played
around it, but little they thought of the Fire Sprites
living in its trunk !

“The Sprites were happy enough in those days;
but by and by the old tree died. Then they wished
that they might leave it and fly far away. How long
they had lived there, alone!

“The Air Sprites called them: ‘Come out where
we are! -Come out, little friends, and be free!’ The
Sprites within were eager to go; they loved the Sprites
of the Air. But, alas, their prison walls were strong!
No tiny Sprite could break them! Then every night
as the wind came up the Air Sprites sang this song :—

“<¢QO tiny Sprite,
With wings of licht,
When flame shall break the wall,
Pll come for thee
To set thee free ; —
When flame shall break the wall !’


TWILIGHT STORIES. 33



' «And the Sprites within would

“ answer : —

» “«O Sprite of the Air,
So blithe and fair,
When flame shall break the wall,
[ll fly to thee,
As thou to me ;—
When flame shall break the wall!’








“So they waited and were
patient, and one day the old tree
was hewn down and cut into fire-

wood. How glad the Sprites

were! They whispered to each

other: ‘At last we shall leave
the old tree!’ But still they
waited. One night Tom and Dick
carried in wood for Grandpa, and
the old hickory log was placed on

the coals.
“The flames crept around the wood and warmed it,
and the prison walls began to break. The Sprites
within were free!
“Took! The Sprites of the Air are trooping in
34 TWILIGHT STORIES.



now! The gay little Fire Sprites are whirling away
with the Air Sprites who come to take them. Together
they go, through the long, dark flue, to the great, wide
world beyond ! .

' “They dance and sing in the warmth they love, and
flutter in glee through the sparks.

“And this is the story repeated each day — every
time that anything burns. When the Sprite in the
Air finds the Sprite in the Wood, we say the wood
is burning!”

The children sat thinking. Then Rose looked up
and asked: ‘Now truly, are there Fairies in the wood?”

“We will call them Fairies,” Aunt Flo said, “ until
we have grown old enough to learn their names.”

—— 050400

ETHEL’S FLOWERS.

Mina had been sick. She was not well yet, but
she was better. Her mother was going away to-day.
She did washing for some people up town. It was the
first time for two weeks that Mina had been left alone.

How she longed to be out of doors again! She
had lain in that room so long! This morning she was
TWILIGHT STORIES. 35



dressed and propped up against the pillows. She
looked like a tiny spring blossom that was too weak
to stand against the keen March wind.

Her window opened on the street. Mina could
watch the children passing on their way to school.
She did not feel lonely until the morning was half
gone. When the street was quiet, and she heard only
the “tick, tock’ of the clock upon the shelf, — then
the tears began to come in her eyes, and she said to
herself: ‘I shall never be well again!” But this
was only a sick fancy, for Mina was growing stronger
all the time. The very next day she sat in her father’s
arm-chair and watched at the window for her mother.

In the beautiful home where Mina’s mother went
to wash, was another little girl who had been sick.
She lay on a couch near to the open window. A gentle
breeze was stirring. It swayed the pretty curtains
to and fro. A lady came in with some fresh flowers
for the child.

“Here, Ethel, are the hyacinths I told you would
be open!” she said, as she dropped them into the
little girl’s lap. Ethel took the dainty sprays and
36 TWILIGHT STORIES.



held them to her cheek. How cool and sweet the
waxy blossoms were !

“Thank you, Mamma, you are kind, ” Kthel said
with a smile; but soon her face grew thoughtful.
“Mamma,” she said, “I wish that you would promise
to let me do anything I wish!” Her mother laughed.

“Kthel must be better,” she said, sitting down at
her side.

“Will you promise, Mamma dear?” the little girl
coaxed; ‘‘there is one thing I want to do so much!”

The tears were coming in Ethel’s eyes. Her mother
saw it. She drew the child’s head close against her
shoulder, and brushed the curls away, and kissed her
forehead.

‘Tell Mamma all about it,” she said with a smile,
“it must be a very good wish!”

Kthel smiled back. ‘Why, Mamma,” she began,
“you bring me flowers every morning, —I love them
so, you know, —TI couldn’t take the medicine if it
wasn’t for them!”

‘No, dear.”

“Well, I have been thinking since I have been sick,
of the children who have no flowers; of the cltildren


TWILIGHT STORIES. 37



who are poor; of little Mina, who is sick. I am nearly
well now; I want to give my flowers to her!” Ethel
stopped and looked up.

“Well, you may,” her mother said, “as soon as
you are strong again. I am glad you thought about
it, Kthel dear!”

So it happened one day, while Mina sat at her
window, watching, that she saw a strange child com-
ing down the street. Such a pretty little girl! Her
smile was like sunshine!

A colored man was walking by her side. He carried
an open basket full of flowers — roses, pinks, and
hyacinths, and dainty violets!

Mina could smell the fragrance, for the wind was
from that way. She leaned over the window-sill and
took a long, deep breath. She had wished that very
morning to go and gather wild flowers.

But these, — Mina wondered where they grew! She
looked and looked again at the flowers,—the pretty
child, —the tall man with brass buttons!

By and by she saw the little girl was looking straight
at her.
38 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Mina thought: “She must be rich, but I am sure
she isn’t proud!” On she came, close to the window.

“This must be the place,” Mina heard her say, and
the man stopped and held the basket up. Mina drew
back. The little girl stepped nearer. ‘Do you love
flowers?” she asked.

Mina nodded and smiled, — she felt too shy to speak.



“T have been sick, too,” said the little girl outside ;
‘Mamma said I might bring my flowers to you!”’

She began to place them upon the window-sill, —
those beautiful, beautiful flowers! There they lay in
a heap! Mina sat still without speaking.

“Take them,” said the little girl; “they are yours!
TWILIGHT STORIES. 39



See this one!’’ and she dropped a pink rose-bud into
Mina’s lap.

Mina took it in her open hand. How fresh and
sweet it looked! She felt the pink petals with her
little fingers. How velvety they were! She thought
she had never seen so fine a flower. It was prettier
than a violet;— but, these violets were pretty! So
were the pinks! She would take them in her apron
and choose the one she liked best!

All at once, she remembered! Was her little friend
sone? She had not thanked her, yet, for the flowers!
She hurried to the door. The little girl was walking
off down the street; but she turned and looked toward
Mina as she stood within the doorway.

Mina smiled and waved her hand, and Ethel under-
stood.

IN HEAVEN.

Beyond the stars, across the blue,

The angel babies peeping through,

Look down from Heaven and smile on you,
And wish that you were up there, too!
TWILIGHT STORIES.





They like to live away up high.

They love to float across the sky.
They’re always glad, — and that is why
They think it isn’t sad to die!

But, free as birds upon the wing,

And fair as flowers that ope in spring,
They carol round their Savior King ; —
His glory lights them while they sing!

You'd be almost afraid to go?

You’ve never been up there, I know ; —
I'd rather have you wait, and grow

To be a man, on Earth below!
TWILIGHT STORIES. At



TOMTIT’S PEEP AT THE WORLD.

He was a tiny tomtit. His home was in the apple-
tree by the big gate. His mother was off the nest.
She had gone to the hillside for sunflower seed.

Tommy was wishing that he could fly away from
the nest, too. It was so crowded with six birds in it!
“Tam sure this nest gets smaller every day,” he said,
turning toward Topknot.

“Tt is big enough when we all keep quiet,” cna
Topknot, who thought Tommy was too lively.

Tommy tried to be still after this. ‘Iam afraid to
talk to Topknot; I shall feel cross, if I do,” thought
Tom, as he turned away his head.

It was tiresome waiting for his supper. He began
to feel hungry. ‘What makes Mamma stay away so
long?” he said at last, twisting his little head to
look; but he was in the middle, and could not see over
the edge.

‘Topknot, can’t you peep out and see?” he said.
But Topknot was afraid. “I am too near the edge
42 TWILIGHT STORIES.



already; why don’t you Took out, yourself?” asked |

Topknot.
“Well, I will,” Tommy answered, for he felt that |

Topknot was daring him. He flopped over to the side | |

of the nest.

“Get off my wing!” screamed Topknot.

“Don’t crowd so!” cried the other birds.

“Excuse me,” said Tommy, politely. “TIl be on the
edge ina moment. I’m sure I’m old enough to balance
myself!”

He stood on the edge and peeped over. ‘“ Why, the
blue doesn’t reach all around!” he cried. Tommy
had looked up into the sky all his hfe. He had never
looked down, before.

“The earth is covered with green pin-feathers! It’s
big, too; it’s bigger than this whole tree! I see
Mamma! How easy it must be to fly!”

“Tommy,” cried Topknot, “‘do come back; you might
fall!”

But Tommy was watching his mother fly, and did
not hear.

“What if I should fly, myself! I’m big enough,”
thought Tommy. Then he turned to the other birds
TWILIGHT STORIES. 43



in the nest. ‘I am going to fly over for some seed,”
he said.

‘Why, Tommy, you mustn’t,” the httle birds cried.
“Wait; Mamma will bring you some!”

“T am a big bird, myself, now,” Tommy cried, and
he shook his little wings, and gave a spring. He felt
frightened as soon as his feet had left the nest.

He was falling! How he flapped his wings and
tried to fly across! He kept going down, down, until
he reached the ground!

“OQ Mamma, Mamma, come!” he chirped. Then, he
thought of the cat, and kept still.

He had heard one mewing in the yard, that very
morning! What if she should come and find him on
the grass!

As he lay there, he heard voices. A boy came run-
ning toward him. Tommy was afraid of boys. He
crept farther under the grass. The boy nearly stepped
upon him, before he saw where he was hiding.

“Tt isn’t an English sparrow; it’s a tomtit!”’ the boy
cried, as he stooped and took Tom from the ground.
But Tom did not want to be taken; so, he opened his
bill and spit at the boy, and scolded him with all his
44 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“might. The little girl who came up was afraid to touch
him; but the boy held him fast, and looked at him.

“Put him up in
the tree, Willie,” the
little girl said; ‘he
is frightened; let us
vo away and leave
him!”

So, Tom was lifted
up and placed upon
the lowest bough.

“Vou poor; little
bird, I would not
hurt you!” said the
boy; and the chil-
dren walked away
toward the house.

‘Just then Tom’s
father came back.



What a chirping
there was in the nest! Tom could hear it. Would his
father think of him? He waited. All was quiet
again.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 45



Tom looked off toward the hillside. He saw his
mother flying toward the tree.

“Q Mamma, Mamma,” he chirped, “here lam; come
to me!”

His mother heard him. She came and gave him seed.

“Why, Tommy,” she cried, “what made you leave
the nest?”

But, before Tom could answer, he heard his father’s
voice : —

‘Be quiet — be quiet — the cat!”

Tom looked down. ‘The cat was coming. He could
see her eyes gleam !

She came creeping through the grass, toward the
tree. His father was darting about her head. His
mother began to scold her. Tom chirped in fright.
What could he do? He did not know how to fly!
Now, the little boy, Willie, was not far off. He heard
the noise of the birds, and he saw the cat.

He came running back, and carried puss away. Tom
had never felt so thankful in his life!

“Boys are not so bad, after all,” he thought, as he
saw Willie shutting the cat in the barn.

Tom sat on his bough all alone. He could hear the
46 TWILIGHT STORIES.



birds above him chirping over their supper, but he
could not be with them in the nest.

“T must sleep here in the dark, —by myself, —all
night!” Tom was thinking. Then he tried to be brave.
His mother came down to feed him again. ‘ Never
mind, Tommy,” she said, “you will soon learn to fly!”

“Qh, shall I?” cried Tom. “I mean to try again,
to-morrow!” And so he did. Before the week was
over, he could fly as well as older birds!

—-0£03 0.0——_

RAY’S SACRIFICE.

Thump! thump! thump! Prince was wagging his
tail against the porch floor. “Ray must be coming
back,” said Mrs. Gray, glancing at the clock. Mrs,
Gray was Ray’s mother. She had sent him on an
errand. Prince sprang up with a glad bark, as he
saw Ray near the gate; then bounded out to meet
his little master. |

How pretty he looked waiting there inside the fence !
He stood looking up at Ray with his soft, brown eyes.

“ Hello, Prince,” the boy said, as he opened the gate,
while the dog barked and frisked along before him.
“TWILIGHT STORIES. AT



Prince had been Ray’s dog ever since he was a
puppy. Ray had found him Christmas morning inside
one of his new boots. How long ago that seemed to
Ray! His father had worked, then, in the shop, and
his mother did not need to sew.

Now, they were poor,—very poor! His father was
away hunting for work. Their money was almost gone.
His mother earned a little with her needle. Ray had
been to get the pay for her work. He hurried into
the house. Prince followed close at his heels.

Mrs. Gray looked up with a smile. She was pleased
that he had been so prompt. ‘You were gone such
a little while,” she said, as Ray handed her the money
he had brought.

Mrs. Gray took it and counted it. ‘Is this all?”
she asked.

Ray nodded “Yes,” while the tears were coming in
his mother’s eyes.

“T thought they would have given me more, this
time!” she said; “there is not enough here to pay
the rent!”

Then, her head dropped on her hand, and Ray knew
that she was crying. Prince knew it, too! He came
48 TWILIGHT STORIES.



and laid his head in her lap, and licked her hand, and
whined softly.

Ray went and knelt down at his mother’s side. “0
Mamma, don’t, don’t cry!” he said. “Let me help
you, Mamma dear! Can’t I do something? I am
nearly eight!”

His mother put her arm around him, and drew fi
closer. She did not speak. But, by and by, she looked
up and kissed him. Then she rose to prepare supper.
Ray sat down by the fire to think.

What would happen if they could not pay the rent?
Would they be turned out into the street? Ray would
not ask his mother, but he felt sure that they would!
It was cold weather, too! Poor Ray began to shiver.
Oh, if only he were larger! He had tried so often to
find work, but every one had thought he was too little.

What if he should sell something, — something all
his own? Maybe he could help in that way. But
Ray could think of nothing that would do to sell.
Nothing ? ——

He looked across and called to Prince, who lay doz-
ing with his paws stretched out before him. Prince
opened his eyes, and came and stood by Ray. The
TWILIGHT STORIES. 49



boy put his arms around him, and leaned his cheek
against him. ‘You are getting thin, old fellow!”
he said, for he could feel the dog’s bones through
his thick hair.

When Ray’s father was at home, he had always
given him money to buy meat for Prince. But lately,
the dog had been living upon bread.

‘Poor Prince,” the boy said; ‘I wish I had some
meat to give you! Are you very hungry?” But
Prince only wagged his tail, and looked around as if to
say: “No matter if I am, only let me live with you!”

Ray did not eat much supper. When Mrs. Gray
noticed it, and asked what was the matter, he said:
“T thought I would give what was left to Prince,
Mamma!”

But his mother could not bear to have him do with-
out his supper, so Ray ate some more to please her.

He went to bed early, but he could not go to sleep.
He was thinking. ‘My Papa isn’t here,” he said at last,
to himself, “and my Mamma needs the money ; / ought
to help her, now, —myself!’’ Then he fell asleep.

The next morning at breakfast Ray looked very
50 TWILIGHT STORIES.



sober. He helped his mother about her morning
work. Then he asked if he might go to see Miss
Merle. His mother looked surprised. Miss Merle was
his Sunday-school teacher. She lived in a large, fine
house away up-town.

“Why do you want to go there, Ray?” asked his
mother.

“TJ thought,” answered Ray,—and the tears would
come, — “I thought I should let her buy Prince!”

Then he could bear it no longer. He leaned his
| i *—- breast, and sobbed as if his

heart would break !

| ' han _ head against his mother’s
1



Miss Merle felt
very gay that morn-
ing. She was going
to give a party. She
had been busy writ-
ing pretty notes.

She came to the
window and glanced
up and down _ the
TWILIGHT STORIES. 54

street. She saw Ray coming an his dog. She waved
her hand to him, and went to let him in, herself.

“Come in, Ray,” she said; “I am very glad to see
you! Let Prince come in, too! Would he shake hands
with me?”

She placed her hand on the dog’s head as she spoke,
and Prince wagged his tail in greeting. Ray could see
that Prince was going to be friendly. He was often
cross to strangers, but he sat up, and shook hands
with Miss Merle, as soon as they had come into
the hall.

Miss Merle laughed, and said that she would like
to have that dog; and then Ray told her that he
had come to sell him!

Miss Merle was surprised. She had wanted the
dog for a long time, but Ray had said that he would
never, never, part with him!

Ray told her, now, how much they needed money.
Miss Merle was sorry and she bought the dog. She
promised Ray to care for him herself. She gave him
meat while Ray was there. He went with her to see
where Prince would sleep. Ray left him there and
went away.
52 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Prince was his dog no longer. He hurried down the
street with the money for his mother.

He could pay the rent now; he, — a little boy!

He ran into the house. His mother sat there sew-
ing. How sad and tired she looked as she bent above
her work.

He closed the door. His mother had been weeping.
He came and dropped the money in her lap. She
looked at him in silence. Her face was full of pity.
How hard it was that he should part with Prince!

‘Here, Mamma,” he cried, ‘see what Miss Merle
gave me for him!”

She took the money in her hand. Her face shone
with her joy. It seemed to Ray the trouble had
slipped away that moment.

He had never felt as happy in his life!
TWILIGHT STORIES. 53



BLUEBELLS.

Dainty little flower bells, do the Fairies
ring you,

When their supper’s ready in the dewy
shade ?

Does the tinkle, tinkle, of your silver
chiming

Waken little Lady Bug, and make her
feel afraid ?

Ring, little bluebells, in the breezes
blowing ;

Softly ring a lullaby, and soothe her }\
in her bed! Cu

Hush again to slumber everything 1 a
that waketh ; :

While the watchful little stars keep winking overhead !





54 TWILIGHT STORIES.



HOW PINCH LOST A CLAW.

“Q Aunt Bertha,” called Ted from the brook, “here
is a crayfish that has a broken claw!”

‘Bring it to me, Ted,” said his Aunt. Ted came,
holding it by the back. ‘See, Auntie, he has been
hurt,” said Ted.

“Yes,” said his Aunt; “maybe I know how it
happened!”

“© tell us,” cried Blanche, dropping her shells in
the sand.

“Yes, do!” chimed Tod, sitting down to listen.

Aunt Bertha placed the crayfish in a pan of water,
where they could watch him, and then she told this
story : —

“When this crayfish first hatched out, he was soft
all over. He had more brothers and sisters than he
could count. They were there with him, for they all
hatched out about the same time.

“The Mother crayfish took care of them while they
were little. She kept them under her tail. They
liked to cling to her, and ride all about! Even after
TWILIGHT STORIES. 55



they began to swim, they ran back to her whenever
they were tired or frightened. She liked to have them
come. She never thought them any bother. Before
they left her, she taught them craytish manners.

“ is food in the water for all of us, so don’t grab from
others, but hunt for yourselves. Just see the snails
and tadpoles. No crayfish need go hungry in this
creek !’

‘She stopped and caught a tadpole, and showed them
how to do it. ‘The first thing you do,’ she said, ‘find
a shady stone. Every crayfish needs a home in time
of danger. When you molt, stay out of sight until
your shell is well hardened. Some creature might
eat you, while you look soft!’

“The little crays all promised to be careful. One day
this little fellow, whose name is Pinch, sat under his
stone portico watching an old crayfish who lived near.

“<«T shall not be as big as he is,’ thought Pinch,
‘until I have molted five or six times. How shiny his
back is! He hasn’t eaten all of that frog yet. I won-
der how it tastes! I never catch frogs. It wouldn’t
be safe to grab a piece, of course. Besides, I wouldn’t
56 TWILIGHT STORIES.



grab. Mother said not to grab. The old craytish
doesn’t see me. I wonder if he isn’t fast asleep! He
doesn’t eat his breakfast. I don’t believe he likes
frog. I wonder if I should like it! I might as well
eat it if he doesn’t!’

“Pinch began to swim quietly toward the frog. It
had been dragged under the edge of a stone. The old
crayfish did not move as Pinch came up. Pinch
watched him all the time. When he was near, he
waited to see what the old crayfish would do.

“<«He does not see me yet,’ thought Pinch, and he
seized one of the frog’s soft legs with his largest
pinchers.

“But as soon as the frog’s body shook, the old cray-
fish darted after Pinch. Oh, how fierce he looked! He
caught Pinch by the claw. Pinch wanted to back off,
but the old crayfish held him fast. He pulled and
twisted, and at last his claw came off, and he dodged
back into his cellar before the giant could stop him.

“How glad he was to be safe.at home again! He
stayed there all the rest of that day. He did not dare
to come out! :

‘He lives now on snails and worms that he finds
TWILIGHT STORIES. 57



close to his door. He will not go far from home, until
his pincher has grown out, but it is growing very fast.

“He wishes the old crayfish would move farther
down the creek!”













































“Why, Auntie,” cried Blanche, ‘let us move Pinch
up the creek.” So the children carried him away where
the giant could not find him. ‘The water here is very
shallow,” said Blanche, ‘and there are no big crayfish
to hurt him.”

Ted found a stone for him to live under while his
broken claw was growing, and they left him, in the
quiet shade, to grow his claw in peace.
58 TWILIGHT STORIES.

WAHTASSA.

Wahtassa was a little Indian boy. He lived here
in this country when it was a forest. He had no
playmates but the creatures of the wood. These were
all his friends.

He knew where the bees were storing honey. He
had seen the beaver as he built his dam. He had
found the cave where the bears slept in winter. He
had fed the bass and trout, that swam the running




TWILIGHT STORIES. 59

stream. Not a little singing bird but answered to
his call. ©



One day, his father gave him a bow and some
arrows. ‘Go into the woods, Wahtassa, and bring
me back some game,” he said. ‘

Wahtassa sped away into the thickest forest. His
heart was singing like the lark. As he hastened on,
a squirrel came from out a hollow oak, and stood to
look at him.

Wahtassa stopped. He drew his bow to aim. How
still the morning was! How deep the shadows! The
little squirrel did not move. But Wahtassa left him
and went on. He did not shoot.

A timid rabbit stopped before his path. It did not
feel afraid. It knew Wahtassa. A robin chirped and
sang above his head, and watched to see if any grain
were left. The boy had often fed him. Everywhere,
his little friends came out to meet him.

Wahtassa went back slowly to the tent.

“The game!’ his father said, ‘where is the panne? 2

Wahtassa handed him the bow. ‘When I had
drawn the cord,” he said, “and would have shot, I
could not kill the creatures of the wood!”
GO TWILIGHT STORIES.



His father frowned and handed back the bow.
“Kall that which is for food,” he said, ‘and leave in
peace thy playmates of the wood. Now go!”

Wahtassa turned back with a lighter heart. He
bounded down the paths he knew so well, and called
in greeting to the friends he loved.

A little robin, that had feared to fly, came fluttering
downward at Wahtassa’s cry. He stopped to lift it to
a cedar bush that grew beside a cave near to his path.

There was a rustling of the leaves within. He heard
a low growl, and he saw the gleam of bright eyes
through the branches, in the cave. He clutched his
bow!
Wahtassa was as fleet as any deer. He could run
homeward without fear of harm. Dare he stand still
and face his hungry foe? What would his father say,
on his. return, if he should come back with his bow
untried ?

Wahtassa’s heart beat high! He took fair aim, and
while the bear came crashing through the brush, he
sent the singing arrow through his heart. The bear
fell dead. How brave Wahtassa felt!
TWILIGHT STORIES. 64



His shout sent echoes to his father’s tent. His
father heard, and came to meet his son.

His frown was gone. ‘You have done well,” he
said; ‘‘Wahtassa has the spirit of a Brave!”

A DAY IN BROWNIE LAND.

One time, in spring,

The Brownie King
Invited Fairy-land,

To come and view

The tricks they do,
Among the Brownie-band.



Where, ’neath the trees,
May-apple leaves

Grow like a shady tent,
The Brownies come

With fife and drum,

When on their didoes bent.


62 TWILIGHT STORIES.



But, first, they send

And ask their friend,
The spider, to assist ; —
She quickly weaves

A web trapeze,

As tight as she can twist.



And, near the ground,

She spins around

Hach pretty, slender stalk,
A net, to catch, |
Without a scratch, a |,



eS EUR Ty,
The ones who make a balk. ~ ~ Ni hoe
Nice Wis



And, oh, the fun!

They leap and run;

They hang from toe and chin;
They somersault

In backward vault ; —

Like tops, they seem to spin!


TWILIGHT STORIES. 63



They climb a pole,
They hop and roll;

_ And, in the afternoon,
With harp, and flute,
And parachute,

They rise in a balloon.



It is a day

When all are gay;

For, when the show is done,
Each man who tries,
Receives a prize,

Instead of only one.



At set of sun,

They give each one,

Tied up with leaf and vine,
A suit of clothes ; —

The kind that grows

Upon a columbine !


64 TWILIGHT STORIES.

And, at the ball,

The Brownies all

Are dressed in red and buff ;
And Fairies say



That this one day,



They’ve all had fun enough !

——>-059400——__

THE FAIRY’S GIFT.

In the parlor, sat little Carl at his piano. A frown
was on his face. His tears were falling fast upon the
keys. He did not like music. He was thinking: “I
wish I might go out into the country and pick berries,
as Carol does. I do not like to be rich! I wish
Mamma had never given me this piano!”

In a swing, under the beech tree, sat Carol in her
faded dress. The tears were in her eyes. “I wish I
had a piano, as Carl has,” she thought. “I wish my
Papa were rich, as his! Why is my Papa not rich?
If Mamma should give me a piano, what pretty tunes
I could play!” Carol clasped her hands in delight, at
the thought of such a fortune.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 65



“Car-ol!”’ came a voice; it was her mother, calling
her. It must be time to go to work. Carol had found
a way to earn some money. She picked berries, in the
country, at two cents a quart. She ran into the house
for her bonnet, and started off, singing as she went.



A river flowed at the back of the garden where Carol
lived. On its bank was a willow tree. The branches
of this tree grew low, and spread out so that they made
a seat where Carol could sit.
66 TWILIGHT STORIES.



She often came and sat there in the twilight. She
liked to hear the water.

One evening Carol sat in her tree, singing softly as
the waves! She was watching a patch of sunlight in
the water before her. It seemed as if the water rose
higher there than anywhere else.

As she looked, the sunny water began to dash about.
Then, from the white foam, a tiny object, not much
larger than a dragon fly, rose and fluttered to the bank,
at her feet.

It was a little lady dressed in rainbow tints. The
water drops were dripping from her wings. She stood
smiling at Carol. At last she spoke. .

“Ts this the little girl who likes to sing?” she
asked. Carol smiled back at the lady and nodded
her head.

“T have brought you a pretty toy from Fairy-land.
It is the kind we use to train our voices. It will guide
you in your singing, if you listen.”

She handed Carol a tiny, silver harp.

‘When I am gone,” she said, “hold it to your lips,
and whisper these words : —
TWILIGHT STORIES. 67



Sound your note,
Silver throat,
Bring the nightingales !

Then, it will play for you; and, by and by, if you
listen, you will know the pretty tunes and may sing
them all, yourself! You may keep the harp until your
next birthday.” Then she smiled again, and flew back
into the sunbeams, and out over the water, — away,
away, until Carol could see her no longer.

Carol sat looking at the toy in wonder. There was
silver lace work around the frame. The strings were
as fine as spider’s web. What if she should break it!
She was almost afraid to touch it. But she longed to
hear it play. She must hear the Fairy music!

She placed it to her lips and whispered low : —

Sound your note,
Silver throat,
Bring the nightingales !

At first she heard nothing. She held her breath to
listen. There was a faint sound that seemed to come
from over the seas. Then it grew louder and stronger,
until it seemed to Carol that the nightingales were
68 . TWILIGHT STORIES.



singing in the treetops over her head. She wished
it might never stop. She had never heard such music!

“Oar-ol, Car-ol!’” called her mother. The silver
harp stopped playing. Carol waited, hoping that it
might begin again. But the harp was silent. Carol
was to learn that ‘Silver throat” would never sing
after mamma called.

The next day Carol felt very gay, even while she
picked berries, in the hot sun. She was thinking of
the music she had heard the night before. Sometimes
she hummed simple airs that she remembered. Very
soon she could remember better. She would listen to
the harp every night; the next day, she could sing the
tunes herself.

She trilled and rippled the silvery notes till the
mocking birds stopped singing, and tilted their heads
to listen !

Besides the bird music, the harp would sing songs
for Carol; and the voice that sang always sounded like
that of the Fairy.

One day a fine carriage stopped at Carol’s door.
Carl’s mamma had come to ask if she could buy their
TWILIGHT STORIES. 69



bird. ‘We have no bird,” said Carol’s mamma; “you
must have heard my little girl; she loves to sing.”

Then the lady asked if Carol might not come to her
house and sing some day, —and Carol went.

The next time Carl’s mamma gave a party she asked
Carol to come and sing for her friends. After that,
other ladies did the same. They always paid the
little girl.

Carol could earn money for her mamma!

One night the Fairy came back for her harp. She
asked Carol if she would sing for her. Carol was very
glad to sing for the kind Fairy. She sang with all her
heart! When she was done the Fairy said: ‘You have
listened well, sweet little maid,— you have learned ;
you need the harp no longer!”

So, she took the harp; and, before Carol could thank
her, she had fluttered off again; but, as she went, the
air was filled with the music of her song. Carol sat
still, listening, until the last note died away.

Years afterward, when she had grown to be a great
singer, Carol sang the Fairy’s song before the (Queen.
70 TWILIGHT STORIES.



THE CAT’S DREAM.

“Mamma, what does kitty dream about?” asked
Tommy.

‘“T don’t know, I am sure,” answered Mamma. Tom-
my sat looking at the cat. She was moving her jaws
in her sleep.

“But what does kitty dream about, Mamma?” he
asked again. This time Mamma made no answer. She
did not like to have Tommy tease. But the little boy
came and slipped his arm around her neck, saying,
“You can tell, Mamma, if you try!”

Then Mamma laughed. «You don’t want another
story !”’ said she.
“Yes, I do, Mamma,” answered Tommy. ‘Please

tell a story till the rain stops!”

Mamma felt sorry for Tommy because he had been
sick and could not play out of doors: She sat very
still for several minutes, without saying anything.
Whenever she did this, Tommy knew he was to have
a story. So he stood by her side, waiting.

“When kitty first cuddled down by the fire,” Mamma
TWILIGHT STORIES. Th:



began, ‘she felt very drowsy and was soon fast asleep.
Before long a little boy came into the room and slammed
the door behind him. That woke her. But the fire
made a soft purr-
ing noise in her
ears, and in a few
minutes she was
dreaming.

“Tt seemed as
if she were out in
the barn. Mice
were running from one end of the barn to the other;
but she could do nothing to stop it. She could not
move a paw! She wanted to run, and spring upon
them, but she could not do it. She tried again, and
again, —it was of no use.

“The mice began to grow saucy. They would scam-
per around her in a circle. Then one little fellow dared
the rest to run as close to her nose as he did. Then
they all did it.

«Puss took her paw and tried to strike them. But
they would dodge every time, and go squeaking past
her without getting a scratch.


72 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“Puss felt ashamed. She had never, till then, heard
mice make such a racket.

‘“ At last, some old rats, who had peeped at the frolic
before, began to join in the fun, too, playing Leap Frog
over her back.

“Then puss could stand it no longer. She said to
herself : —

“¢T will do it; I will catch the leader of those daring
mice!’ There he was, coming closer. Puss sum-
moned all her strength. She sprang at him. She
caught him. She tossed him up toward the rafters!
Before he came down, all the other mice were in their
holes, and not a rat was to be seen!

“Kitty seized little mousie, and shook in when
he fell. Then she left him on the floor, and waited.
She could see the shining eyes of the other mice
peeping at her. Not one of them dared now to
come out!

“Soon, mousie began to move very quietly toward
his hole. Kitty saw him all the time, though she did
not seem to look. She meant to show those es
what a cat like her could do!

‘“Mousie was half way across the floor, before puss
TWILIGHT STORIES. 73



even stirred. Then she began to creep toward him,
going faster and faster. Just as mousie was about
to run into his hole, she pounced upon him.

“Then she began teasing him, slapping him with her
paws, and biting him until he squeaked. Cats don’t
know any better. It isn’t cruel for cats to tease.
They cannot think how much they hurt their prey!

“Kitty was dreaming of eating mousie, when you
saw her jaws move. Now she is catching another.
Watch her tail move!”

As Mamma stopped talking, kitty wakened from her
dream. She stretched her paws and yawned, showing
her sharp, white teeth. Then she rose and walked
toward the door.

“Me-ow,” she said, and looked at Tommy. Tommy
knew that she was asking to be let out. He went to
the door and opened it.

The rain had stopped. Kitty walked slowly out.
Tommy watched her as she went down the path
- toward the barn.

“She is going to find those mice, Mamma!” Tommy
said, as he saw kitty enter the door.
T4 TWILIGHT STORIES.

BLUE GENTIAN.

“ Beautiful gentian, don’t I know
Why you chose this place to grow?

‘Here you can lean o’er the waters, ‘cool,
i And see yourself in the glassy pool!

Rae }
Nt
N

KY /

‘“Doesn’t your beauty make you vain,
Mirrored in its depths so plain?”





“Nay, little maid,” it answers low,
‘Never a gentian looks below ; —

“They always look high overhead ; —
They look at the blue of the sky,
instead !”


TWILIGHT STORIES. 75



JACK FROST.







a One night in spring Jack
Frost was riding on the wind.

“JT shall have to go North very
soon,” he said, “but I wish to have
some more fun first!”

The wind whistled three times. Jack
looked down and saw the pretty white
tops of the cherry trees.

“J ghall stop here,” he said; “I would
like to play with the cherry blossoms
to-night; how beautiful they look in the moon-
light!”

He sprang out upon the tree. The cherry
boughs were rocking in the wind. The white petals
were fluttering to the ground. Jack thought they
looked like snowflakes. aa

The wind swept on. The Mother Cherrytree began
to shiver. She had felt Jack Frost. She knew him
when he touched her tender leaves. She did not
like him.
76 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Jack said: ‘Hello, Mrs. Cherry, I have come for a
frolic with the children!”

Then he began. He did not wait for Mother Cherry-
tree to answer him. In a moment, he was pinching
and biting the Cherry-babies who were lying in their
little cribs.

O how the mother sighed and waved her boughs!
She wished that the clouds would put out the lights!

She called to Jack to stop his pranks. She told him
_ he was rough about his play. |

“Q Pll not hurt them,” Jack called back in glee.

He was searching through the leaves that he might
nip their little bodies. How soft they felt!

“This is rare sport,” cried Jack.

He would have killed them all that night, but gentle
South Wind came and drove him off.

She rustled softly
EL through the cherry
He ~~ boughs, and smoothed
” the Cherry-babies’ rumpled caps.
‘ Good Mrs. Cherry waved her boughs
#2 in joy. ‘When South Wind comes,” she cried,
“Jack Frost must go!”






TWILIGHT STORIES. 77



PINE BLUFFS.

Amy Brown lived with her mother at “Pine Bluffs”
on the lake. The pine forests grew all around. It
was a lonely place, but Amy loved it very dearly. The
wind in the tree-tops, the waves on the beach, were
like voices of friends to her.

How strong the wind must be, Amy thought, to make
such music! Did the flowing waves never erow tired ?
She loved to stand and watch them from the shadow of
the forest.

The wind tossed her hair, and blew against her
cheek; the waves dashed their spray over her. She
sang in her joy, and felt as free as the birds that
soared above her.

Amy and her mother stayed at “Pine Blufis” all the
winter and took care of Mr. Burns’ house. Mrs. Burns
and the children came up there every summer, but
they went away again in the fall.

When the children came to “ Pine Bluffs,” they made
Amy feel unhappy. How fair and dainty they were!
78 . TWILIGHT STORIES.



Their dresses were pretty,, but hers were coarse and
plain. She was tanned, too, by the wind and sun.
She thought of herself, then, as an ugly weed by the
side of fine garden flowers.

O if she were rich, too, and could wear gloves and
sashes! Would the other children play with her then?

The only one among them who noticed little Amy
was a tall boy whose name was Ben. He came there
for sport. Amy knew the woods and meadows. She
could tell him where to find quail or trout. She was
never afraid to help him with his sailboat. She knew
where the water-lilies grew.

Ben was glad to have her with him, and when her
chores were over, they would go off together every day.

One fine morning Erla and her sisters had carried
their dolls out on the porch. The two smaller girls
were taking one of the dolls out for a walk; Erla
held hers up to see it. The other dolls were asleep
in their cribs.

Amy came down from upstairs, where she had been
helping to put the girls’ room in order.

She was barefoot, — but she was neat and clean.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 79

























She came and stood near the girls, looking at their
dolls, and wishing she could hold one in her arms.

The little girls saw her, but they went on with their
play without saying anything to her.

Ben came up. ‘Why doesn’t Amy play, too?” he
asked. The little girls looked at each other without
speaking, while Amy ran off to the woods to hide her
tears !

“T don’t like the way you treat that girl!” Ben
cried, as soon as he was sure she could not hear.
80 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“ Why, Ben, we didn’t say one word!” answered Erla.

“Why, no, you didn’t even speak to her!”

“Well, you know she never plays with ws!”

“Why not? She’s nearly your age!”

«She has to work!”

«“ She needs play all the more!”

“Why, Ben,” said Erla, with a toss of her head and
a curling of her lips, “she goes barefoot!”

Ben watched Erla, and thought how ugly she looked
when she felt proud and showed it in her face.

« Amy never looks like that, if she does go barefoot;
she has gentle ways, if she is poor!”? And Ben went
off to find little Amy, and ask her to go and sail with
him.

Ben had promised to take the girls, some day, in his
sailboat to an island not very far away. It was a
pretty island! There were berries growing on it. Amy
had told Ben about it, and he had been there to see.
The berries were just ripe, and they wished to have
a picnic before the birds gathered them all.

“Were there very many berries?” Erla asked of Ben.

“Yes, bushels!” said Ben; ‘and fine ones, too!”
TWILIGHT STORIES. 84



‘“Maybe Amy can gather enough for our dinner,”
said Hrla, who thought Amy ought not to go along.
But Ben said that, to-day, each one must wait upon
himself; and they all carried baskets when they started
for the boat.

Ponto followed them to the dock, barking and whin-
ing, so Ben said that he should go, too.

What a happy day it was! There were tall flowers
on the island, and ferns, and drooping grasses grew
around. Birds flew down to the bushes as the children
gathered berries. They ate and sang, and did not seem
afraid.

The girls found one bird that had a broken wing;
so they made a bed of moss for him, and fed him
cake and berries. Louise gave him milk, too, from a
silver spoon.

Ponto chased the squirrels, barked at the flying
birds, and ran about after Ben. Every one of them
had a gay time!

When Ben said they must start home, the children
were all sorry. ‘ Why can’t we stay a little longer,
Ben?” Erla asked.
82 TWILIGHT STORIES.



Ben said that the wind was rising and they must go
at once. They all hurried off to the boat.

How fast they skimmed over the lake! The wind
almost took the children’s breath.

“Take care of your hats!” Ben called; but it was
too late. Erla’s hat blew off into the water. Ponto
sat at her feet. He could see the hat floating. He
gave a spring. He meant to swim and get it. Amy
saw him. She knew that he might tip them into the
water, if he did not keep quiet in the boat. She
caught him by the collar, and pulled him back again.

“Let him alone!” cried Erla in anger. The boat
rocked and dipped water. ‘Keep quiet!’ Ben called.
“Amy won’t let Ponto get my hat,” sobbed Erla.
« Amy does right!” answered Ben; ‘you mind her.”

The wind blew harder. The children felt afraid.
They all began to cry except Amy. She did as Ben
told her, and helped him all she could. He was busy
all the time with the sails.

When the boat was tipping, she made them sit up
on one side. When the water splashed in, she dipped
it out with her tin bucket.

By and by, they were safe at home again! Then the
TWILIGHT STORIES. 83



other children said they would have sunk, if little
Amy had not been with them to help Ben with the
boat!

Krla gave her a fine doll, and now she comes every
morning to play with them, when her work is done.

JOE’S BILLY GOAT.

Joe’s Billy goat had been sent to the country to
stay all summer. Joe’s Mamma was very glad to have

him go. Billy was glad, too,
now that he was there. He _
had fresh clover to eat, in- 2 Z
stead of dry hay. He had
not drawn that cart with
the three boys in it since
he came. He had not even seen a boy!

He was never teased any more. There were no
callers to butt over, as there had been in the city,
but Billy did not care if there were not. He was
growing fat and lazy, and he did not miss such fun.
He would rather sleep now than fight.


84 TWILIGHT STORIES.



He never had fought when Joe first bought him, but
he had been teased so much since, that he had grown
—so the boys said — ‘‘very cross!”’ Was it cross to butt
those boys when he had grown tired of their teasing ?
Billy saw no harm in that! Nothing else ever made
them go away. But those times were all over now.

He chewed his cud and dreamed about fighting, but
he led a very quiet life.

Beyond Billy’s pasture there was a fine orchard.
Billy hiked to go there in the heat of the day to take
his nap.

The apples were still green; no Billy goat would eat
them. He only went there for the quiet shade.

The only sound was the humming of the bees, and
that always made Billy drowsy.

One day as he was dozing, well hidden by the grass,
he woke, all at once, with a start. He had heard a
boy’s voice. He was sure that he had heard it! Or
did he dream ?

He looked across the field. There in the tall clover
were two boys from the city. They were crossing the
brook at the foot of the hill. They were coming to the
TWILIGHT STORIES. 85



orchard to steal apples. They had often teased Billy
from over the fence, for they lived next door to Joe.
He had never met them in an open field.

He waited, and watched them. He could tell they
did not see him. They were looking at the apples,
and began to shake the boughs. The apples were too
ereen to fall.

“We shall have to climb the tree, Jim!” the little
boy said.

“T ghall not,” answered Jim, as he pulled one for
himself.

‘Pull one for me, too!” the little boy cried. But
Jim began eating and pointed to the tree, saying:
“ Apples are plenty, —help yourself!”

But just as he said the last words, something struck
him. Jim did not see what it was, but he fell sprawl-
ing on the ground. He tried to get up, but Billy
knocked him on his back. He rose to his knees, but
down he went again. Bob sprang up the tree. ‘“ Run,
Jim,” he cried; ‘it’s that Billy goat of Brown’s!”

Run, indeed! What chance had he to run? Hach
time, Billy waited until Jim was nearly up, and then
threw him over on the ground.
86 - TWILIGHT STORIES.



Bob slipped from the tree and ran and climbed the
fence. ‘Come on, Jim,” he cried; ‘“let’s go home!”

Jim rolled his eyes toward Billy; there he stood
waiting. The goat thought








it fine sport! ‘I can never
get up unless I have a start,”
Jim thought; ‘it is







Un

not worth while to
try!”

All at once, he began rolling over and over, and
farther, each time, from the goat. He was going down
hill! He began to grow dizzy! He thought he might,
now, dare to rise. As soon as he stood up, the goat

came plunging at him, and over he went into the
brook !
TWILIGHT STORIES. ® 87



Ags he scrambled up the bank on the other side, he
looked to see if Billy were there, too. But the goat -
was eating clover across in the meadow, with his head
turned away from the boys. |

“JT don’t see why the Browns brought their goat out
here!” said Jim, wringing the water from his sleeves.

Bob came up to help him. “ Let’s go back to town,”
he said; ‘“there’s no fun here any more!”

So the boys went away and left Billy there alone.
He did not see them any more that summer.

— 0594 co ——.

THE WIND.

I cannot see

The wind so free,

It goes where’er it will;
It is not bound ; —

No one has found

Its path upon the hill.

It roams around
From sky to ground ;
It whirls the leaves about.
88

TWILIGHT STORIES.



I hear its cry
Sink to a sigh, —
And rise into a shout.

Oh, winds that sweep
Across the deep,

May I not go along?

I should delight

In such a flight

Upon your breezes strong !

If I should fly

With you up high,

Upon your wings of might,
Would you refuse

If I should choose

To come down for the night?

Will you not speak ?

Yon branches creak ;

A moan comes from the glen ;
I dare not go!

How do I know

I could come back again ?
TWILIGHT STORIES. 89



THE BLACK MITE.

‘‘Mamma,”’ cried Charley, as he came running into
the house, ‘make Johnny quit teasing me!” — then
he stopped. Mamma was not in the room.

Uncle Frank was sitting by the fire alone. He
looked up from his book, as Charley came in. It was
the third time that afternoon that the boy had left his
play to complain about his playmates.

“Your mother ought to have you focused, Charley,”
said Uncle Frank. Charley blushed. He did not
know what his uncle meant, but he thought that he
was laughing at him.

“Why don’t you visit the Black Mite. It would do
you good!”

“Who is the Black Mite? I never heard of him,”
said Charley.

“He is a queer little fellow who likes to focus chil-
dren. He lives down under the ground.”

Charley looked as if he did not believe it. “ Where,
under the ground?” he asked, coming nearer. :

“ Over that way,” said his uncle, nodding toward the
90 TWILIGHT STORIES.



woods. ‘If you should go to the spot where the sun
sets at night, you could find him there, playing with
the children.”

Charley laughed. ‘How does he look?” he asked.

Uncle Frank thought a moment, then he said: ‘“ His
face, if I remember, is round and black. He is small,
—no taller than you are. If it were not for his beard,
you might take him for a boy.”

“Did you ever see him, Uncle Frank?” asked Charley.

But Uncle Frank did not seem to hear this question.
‘‘His dress is very fine. He wears more diamonds than
a king!” °

‘He must be rich,” said Charley.

‘Yes, he is,” said Uncle Frank ; “ but he is wise, too.
You ought to see him. He can tell children whether |
they are bad or not.”

“7 haven’t been bad, Uncle Frank,” cried Charley ;
“it was the other boys who were bad!”

Uncle Frank smiled, and looked straight at Charley.
Then he said: ‘“ We can’t always tell, ourselves, when
we are bad. The Black Mite knows how to show us.”

“J don’t like the Black Mite, and I shall never go to
see him,” said Charley, with a frown.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 91



“Don’t be too sure about that,” said his uncle.
“Tet me tell you about a little boy who did go!”

Charley was willing to hear about the other boy.
‘All right!” he said, and sat down.

“Once upon a time there was a little boy named
Rudolph, who started to find the Black Mite. He
walked through a dark forest for a long time. The
path was narrow. Bushes grew on each side. The
sun sank lower and lower, until it slipped down out
of sight. Rudolph could see a green mound where it
went under. He hastened toward it, for he thought,
‘Now I shall see the Black Mite!’

‘Ag he came nearer, he saw steps leading down to
the front door. When he reached the bottom step, he
could read the name upon the door-plate. It was set
in diamonds: ‘ Castle of the Black Mite.’

“ Ag Rudolph stood wondering, the door swung open.
He walked in. The Black Mite came to meet him,
looking just as I have told you. He seemed very
friendly, and Rudolph liked him.

«He is glad that I came,’ thought the boy.

“¢ Would you like to be focused?’ the Black Mite
asked.
92 TWILIGHT STORIES.



‘Rudolph was not certain whether he should like it
or not. ‘Do as you please about it,’ the Black Mite
said; ‘but, first, we will go to the playroom.’



“Rudolph followed him to a large room where many
children were playing. They were very polite to Ru-
dolph, who was a stranger to them. When he was
tired of play, they gave him candy and nuts. They
could go to the pantry whenever they chose.
TWILIGHT STORIES. 93
“By and by the Black Mite said: ‘Now, children,
come to the focusing room.’
‘All the other children were going, so Rudolph felt
like going, too.



“The Black Mite led he way to a large, white room.
A great stream of light was pouring in from a hole at
one side. It shone against a tall, silver slab on the
opposite wall. The sides of the room were as spar-
kling as a snow drift.

‘As the children came in, they sat down in a semi-
circle, on chairs that were fast in the floor. Then the
Black Mite stepped in front of them. ‘Who will come
first?’ he asked. But no one spoke, and no one came
forward.

«“*VYou come, Georgie,’ the Black Mite said; and a
little boy who was eating peanuts, rose from his seat.

'«The Black Mite led him to a platform in the centre
of the group. As soon as Georgie stood upon the plat-
form, everybody looked toward the silver slab.

“ Georgie’s shadow showed upon it. At first, it was
a very black shadow; but soon it began to grow dim.

“ ~ began to count the children.
94 [TWILIGHT STORIES.



“<«Oh, see it now!’ cried a little boy who sat near
him in the row. Rudolph looked again and saw that
letters were forming upon the slab.

‘“« What makes the letters come?” he asked.

“<«Why,’ said the boy, ‘his thoughts make them
come, of course! Whatever he thinks the most, is sure
to show upon the slab.’

“Then Rudolph began to watch for the words, won-
dering what they would be. All the gray of the shadow
shaped itself into one sentence : —

GIVE ME SOME MORE.

“When the Black Mite saw it, he smiled and pointed
to Georgie’s pockets. ‘They are both full already,’ he
said; ‘do you want still more?’

“The room was silent. Georgie hung his head in
shame. He had never known before that he was
greedy. Rudolph turned to the boy who sat at his
side. ‘Does the light, shining through, print his
thoughts?’ he asked. His friend nodded ‘Yes’; he
was looking at the slab.

“* Watch that other boy,’ he said, with a quick glance
TWILIGHT STORIES. 95



at Rudolph. But Rudolph was thinking about Georgie.
‘What made him go up there? I shouldn’t have gone,’
he said. ‘He might have known how it would be!’
But his little friend told him that no one ever knew.

“ he asked; and he turned, as he spoke, to look at
Rudolph. Rudolph sat still to think. ‘No,’ he said,
looking up, ‘I can’t tell!’ and they turned again to
watch the slab.

The boy had been focused while they were talking.
They read the words : — .

YOU TAKE IT.

The Black Mite looked pleased. The children
clapped their hands.

“ Rudolph. ‘He was giving his little sister candy.’

“ She went tripping to the platform, smoothing her sash,
and tossing her curls. ‘What beautiful thoughts she
must have!’ said Rudolph. But when the words came
out, he was surprised to read : —
96 TWILIGHT STORIES.





LOOK AT ME.
LOOK AT ME.
LOOK AT ME!

“«Ts that the most she thinks? She isn’t very
pretty,’ said Rudolph, as the little girl walked away.

The next one who came was a shy little girl. The
Black Mite went with her to the platform. Rudolph
thought her shadow small, as it darkened the silver
plate; but the words that grew from it were very
large : —
TWILIGHT STORIES. 97



ES Mie talelie

‘Again the children clapped their hands. Then the
little girl went skipping to her seat.”

Uncle Frank stopped a moment. He looked down |
at Charley, who sat leaning against his chair.

“Did the Black Mite focus you?” he asked in a low
voice.

“Why, Uncle Frank,” cried Charley, ““what makes
you ask?”

‘Because the next boy who came was Charley Bain.”

“Why, that’s my name!” Uncle Frank nodded.
Charley looked puzzled. ‘It must have been another
Charley Bain.”

“No,” said Uncle Frank, “from the way the boy
focused, I am sure it must have been you!”

Charley looked up quickly. What did Uncle Frank
think that he would focus? He felt afraid to ask him,
and yet he must know!

Uncle Frank could tell how Charley felt. He tore a
leaf from his note-book, and wrote a sentence on it.
Then he folded the writing inside, and handed the
paper to Charley.
98 TWILIGHT STORIES.



“Take it out of doors to read it,” he said; “I have
written the words that you focused.”

Charley ran behind the house. What had Uncle
Frank written? He opened the paper and read :—

PLE TELL ON YOU.

“Come on, Charley,” called the boys, who were mak-
ing a snow house in the garden; ‘“ we didn’t mean to
hurt you; come on!”

He crammed the paper into his pocket. “I ama
tell-tale,” he thought. “Tl quit it!” he said aloud,
as he ran to join in the play.

IN THY YOUTH.

O thou dainty Goldilocks, with thy pretty air,
Like a flower that wavereth in the morning fair;
Like a flower that lifteth up

All the fragrance of its cup ‘

To the sun,

In responsive benison : —
TWILIGHT STORIES. 99



Bloom thou here among the weeds, little one;
Let the perfume of thy deeds rise above the sun ;
Let thy gentle, winsome ways

Be a constant hymn of praise,

That shall ring

In the palace of the King.

Like the fragrance that exhales from the simple flower,
Will the grace of goodness fill life with subtle power.
May thy kindliness and truth

Lend a dignity to youth,

That shall grow

With the years that come and go.


Ss