 CHAPTER 1 OF JACK AND JILL went up the hill to coast with fun and laughter. Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after. CHAPTER 1 THE CATASTROPHY Clear the Lula was a general cry on a bright December afternoon, when all the boys and girls of Harmony Village were out enjoying the first good snow of the season. Up and down three long coasts they went as fast as legs and sleds could carry them. One smooth path led into the meadow, and here the little folk congregated. One swept across the pond, where skaters were darting about like water-bugs, and the third from the very top of the steep hill ended abruptly at a rail fence on the high bank above the road. There was a group of lads and lasses sitting or leaning on this fence to rest after an exciting race, and as they reposed they amused themselves with criticizing their mates, still absorbed in this most delightful of outdoor sports. Here comes Frank Minow, looking as solemn as a judge cried one as a tall fellow of sixteen spun by, with a set look about the mouth and a keen sparkle of the eyes, fixed on the distant goal with a do or die expression. Here's Molly Lu and little Boo sang out another, and down came a girl with flying hair, carrying a small boy behind her, so fat that his short legs stuck out from the sides, and his round face looked over her shoulder like a full moon. There's Gus Burton, doesn't he go it? And such a very long boy whizzed by that it looked almost as if his heels were at the top of the hill when his head was at the bottom. Hurrah for Ed Devlin, and a general shout greeted a sweet-faced lad with a laugh on his lips, a fine color on his brown cheek, and a gay word for every girl he passed. Laura and Lottie keep to the safe coast into the meadow, and Molly Lu is the only girl that dares to try this long one to the pond. I wouldn't for the world, the ice can't be strong yet, though it is cold enough to freeze one's nose off, said a timid damsel, who sat hugging a post and screaming whenever a mischievous lad shook the fence. No she isn't, here's Jack and Jill going like fury, clear the track for a jolly Jack, sang the boys who had rhymes and nicknames for nearly everyone. Down came a gay red sled bearing a boy who seemed all smile and sunshine, so white were his teeth, so golden was his hair, so bright and happy his whole air. Behind him clung a little gypsy of a girl with black eyes and hair, cheeks as red as her hood, and a face full of fun and sparkle, as she waved Jack's blue tippet like a banner with one hand, and held on with the other. Jill goes wherever Jack does, and he lets her, he's such a good-natured chap he can't say no. To a girl, slyly added one of the boys, who had wished to borrow the red sled, and had been politely refused because Jill wanted it. He's the nicest boy in the world for he never gets mad, said the timid young lady, recalling the many times Jack had shielded her from the terrors which beset her path to school, in the shape of cows, dogs, and boys who made faces and called her frayed cat. She doesn't dare to get mad with Jill, for she'd take his head off in two minutes if he did, growled Joe flint, still smarting from the rebuke Jill had given him for robbing the little ones of their safe coast because he fancied it. She wouldn't, she's a deer, you needn't sniff at her because she is poor, she's ever so much brighter than you are, or she wouldn't always be at the head of your class old Joe, cried the girls, standing by their friend with a unanimity which proved what a favorite she was. Joe subsided with a scornful accurl to his nose as its chilly state permitted, and Mary Grant introduced a subject of general interest by asking abruptly, who is going to the candy scrape to-night? All of us, Frank invited the whole set, and we shall have a tip-top time, we always do at the minnows, cried Sue, the timid trembler. Frank said there was a barrel of molasses in the house, so there would be enough for all to eat and some to carry away, they know how to do things handsomely, and the speaker licked his lips as if already tasting the feast in store for him. Mrs. Minow is a mother worth having, said Molly Lou, coming up with boo on the sled, and she knew what it was to need a mother, for she had none, and tried to care for the little brother with maternal love and patience. She was just as sweet as she can be, declared Mary, enthusiastically, especially when she has a candy scrape, said Joe, trying to be amiable, lest she be left out of the party. We're at they all laughed and went gaily away for a farewell frolic, as the sun was setting and the keen wind nipsed fingers and toes as well as noses. Down they went, one after another, on the various coasts. William Frank, Long Gus, Gallant Ed, Fly Away Molly Lou, Pretty Laura and Lottie, Grumpy Joe, sweet-faced Mary with Sue shrieking wildly behind her, Gay Jack and Gypsy Jill, always together, one and all bubbling over with the innocent jollity born of healthful exercise. People passing in the road below looked up and smiled involuntarily at the red cheeked lads and lasses, filling the frosty air with peals of laughter and cries of triumph as they flew by in every conceivable attitude. For the fun was at its height now, and the oldest and gravest observers felt a glow of pleasure as they looked, remembering their own young days. Jack, take me down that coast! Joe said I wouldn't dare to do it, so I must, commanded Jill, as they paused for breath after the long trudge uphill. Jill, of course, was not her real name, but had been given because of her friendship with Jack, who so admired Janey Peck's spirit and fun. I guess I wouldn't. It is very bumpy and ends in a big drift, not half so nice as this one. Hop on and we'll have a good spin across the pond. And Jack brought thunderbolt round with a skillful swing and an engaging air that would have won obedience from anybody but willful Jill. It is very nice, but I won't be told I don't dare by any boy in the world. If you are afraid I'll go alone. And before he could speak she had snatched the rope from his hand, thrown herself upon the sled, and was off, held her skelter, down the most dangerous coast on the hillside. She did not get far, however, for starting in a hurry she did not guide her steed with care, and the red charger landed her in the snow half way down, where she lay laughing till Jack came to pick her up. If you will go I'll take you down all right. I'm not afraid, for I've done it a dozen times with the other fellows, but we gave it up because it is short and bad, he said. Still, good-natured, though a little hurt at the charge of cowardice, for Jack was as brave as a little lion, and with the best sort of bravery the courage to do right. So it is, but I must do it a few times, or Joe will plague me and spoil my fun to-night, answered Jill, shaking her skirts and rubbing her blue hands, wet and cold with snow. Here, put these on, I never use them, keep them if they fit, I only carry them to please mother. And Jack pulled out a pair of red mittens with the air of a boy used to giving away. They are lovely warm, and they do fit, must be too small for your paws, so I'll knit you a new pair for Christmas, and make you wear them, too, said Jill, putting on the mittens with a knot of thanks, and ending her speech with a stamp of her rubber boots to enforce her threat. Jack laughed, and up they trudged to the spot whence the three coasts diverged. Now, which will you have, he asked, with a warning look in the honest blue eyes, which often unconsciously controlled naughty Jill against her will? That one, and the red mitten pointed firmly to the perilous path just tried. You will do it? I will. Come on, then, and hold tight. Jack's smile was gone now, and he waited without a word while Jill tucked herself up, then took his place in front, and off they went on the brief, breathless trip straight into the drift by the fence below. I don't see anything very awful in that. Come up and have another. Joe was watching us, and I'd like to show him that we aren't afraid of anything, said Jill, with a defiance glance at a distant boy, who had paused to watch the descent. It is a regular go-bang if that is what you like, answered Jack, as they plowed their way up again. It is. You boys think girls like little mean coasts without any fun or danger in them, as if we couldn't be brave and strong as well as you. Give me three go-bangs, and then we'll stop. My tumble doesn't count, so give me two more, and then I'll be good. Jill took her seat as she spoke, and looked up with such a rosy pleading face that Jack gave in at once, and down they went again, raising a cloud of glittering snow dust as they reigned up in fine style with their feet on the fence. It's just splendid! Now one more, cried Jill, excited by the cheers of a slaying party passing below. Out of his skill, Jack marched back, resolved to make the third go the crowning achievement of the afternoon, while Jill pranced after him as lightly as if the big boots were the famous seven-lead ones, and chattering about the candy-scrape and whether there would be nuts or not. So full were they of this important question that they piled on haphazard, and started off still talking so busily that Jill forgot to hold tight and Jack to steer carefully. A last for the candy-scrape that never was to be. A last for poor Thunderbolt blindingly setting forth on the last trip he ever made, and oh a last for Jack and Jill, who willfully chose the wrong road, and ended their fun for the winter. No one knew how it happened, but instead of landing in the drift or at the fence, there was a great crash against the bars, a dreadful plunge off the steep bank, a sudden scattering of girl, boy, sled, fence, earth, and snow, all about the road, two cries, and then silence. I knew they'd do it, and standing on the post where he had perched, Joe waved his arms and shouted, Smash up, smash up, run, run, like a raven croaking over a battlefield when the fight was done. Down rushed boys and girls ready to laugh or cry as the case might be, for accidents will happen on the best-regulated coasting grounds. They found Jack sitting up looking about him with a queer dazed expression, while an ugly cut on the forehead was bleeding in a way which sobered the boys and frightened the girls half out of their wits. He's killed, he's killed, willed Sue, hiding her face and beginning to cry. No, I'm not. I'll be all right when I get my breath. Where's Jill? asked Jack stoutly, though still too giddy to see straight. The group about him opened, and his comrade in misfortune was discovered lying quietly in the snow with all the pretty colors shocked out of her face by the fall, and winking rapidly as if half-stunned, but no wounds appeared, and when asked if she was dead she answered in a vague sort of way. I guess not. Is Jack hurt? Broken his head croaked, Joe, stepping aside, that she might behold the fallen hero vainly trying to look calm and cheerful, with red drops running down his cheek and a lump on his forehead. Jill shut her eyes and waved the girls away, saying faintly, Never mind me, go and see to him. Don't, I'm all right. And Jack tried to get up in order to prove that headers off a bank were mere trifles to him. But at the first movement of the left leg he uttered a sharp cry of pain and would have fallen if Gus had not caught and gently laid him down. What is it, old chap? asked Frank, kneeling beside him, really alarmed now. The hurt seeming worse than mere bumps which were common affairs among baseball players and not worth much notice. I lit on my head, but I guess I've broken my leg. Don't frighten, mother. And Jack held fast to Frank's arm as he looked into the anxious face bent over him, for though the elder tyrannized over the younger, the brothers loved one another dearly. Lift his head, Frank, while I time a handkerchief round to stop the bleeding set a quiet voice, as Ed Devlin laid a handful of soft snow on the wound and Jack's face brightened as he turned to thank the one big boy who never was rough with the small ones. Better get him right home, advise Gus, who stood by looking on with his little sisters Laura and Lottie clinging to him. Take Jill too, for it's my opinion she has broken her back. She can't stir one bit, announced Molly Lou, with a droll air of triumph, as if rather pleased than otherwise to have her patient hurt the worst. For Jack's wound was very effective, and Molly had a taste for the tragic. This cheerful statement was greeted with a wail from Susan and Howells from Boo, who had earned that name from the ease with which, on all occasions, he could burst into a dismal roar without shedding a tear and stop as suddenly as he began. Oh, I am so sorry, it was my fault. I shouldn't have let her do it, said Jack distressfully. It was all my fault. I made him. If I'd broken every bone I've got it would serve me right. Don't help me, anybody, I'm a wicked thing, and I deserve to lie here and freeze and starve and die, cried Jill, piling up punishments in a remorseful anguish of mind and body. But we want to help you, and we can settle about blame by and by, whispered Mary with a kiss, for she adored dashing Jill and never would own that she did wrong. Here come the wood sleds just in time. I'll cut away and tell one of them to hurry up. And freeing himself from his sisters, Gus went off at a great pace, proving that the long legs carried a sensible head as well as a kind heart. As the first sled approached an air of relief pervaded the agitated party, for it was driven by Mr. Grant, a big, benevolent-looking farmer who surveyed the scene with a sympathetic interest of a man and a father. Had a little accident, have you? Well, that's a pretty likely place for a spill, tried it once myself and broke the bridge of my nose, he said, tapping that massive feature with a laugh which showed that fifty years of farming had not taken all the boy out of him. Now then, let's see about this little chore, and lively too, for it's late, and these parties ought to be housed, he added, throwing down his whip, pushing back his cap, and nodding at the wounded with a reassuring smile. Jill first pleased, said Ed, the gentle squire of Dames, spreading his overcoat on the sled, as eagerly as ever Raleigh laid down his velvet cloak for a queen to walk upon. All right, just lay easy, my dear, and I won't hurt you a might if I can help it. Careful as Mr. Grant was, Jill could have screamed with pain as he lifted her, but she set her lips and bore it with the courage of a little Indian, for all the lads were looking on, and Jill was proud to show that a girl could bear as much as a boy. She hid her face in the coat as soon as she was settled, to hide the tears that would come, and by the time Jack was placed beside her, she had quite a little cistern of salt water stored up in Ed's coat pocket. Then the mournful procession set forth, Mr. Grant driving the oxen, the girls clustering about the interesting invalids on the sled, while the boys came behind, like a guard of honor, leaving the hill deserted by all but Joe, who had returned to hover above the fatal fence, and poor Thunderbolt split asunder, lying on the bank to mark the spot where the great catastrophe occurred. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Of Jack and Jill This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Jack and Jill never cared to say much about the night which followed the first coasting party of the season, for it was the saddest and the hardest their short lives had ever known. Jack suffered most in body, for the setting of the broken leg was such a painful job that it had wrung several sharp cries from him, and made Frank, who helped, quite weak and white with sympathy, when it was over. The wounded head ached dreadfully, and the poor boy felt as if bruised all over, for he had the worst of the fall. Dr. Whitting spoke cheerfully of the case, and made so light of broken legs, that Jack innocently asked if he should not be up in a week or so. Well, no, it usually takes twenty-one days for bones to knit, and young ones make quick work of it, answered the doctor, with a last scientific tuck to the various bandages, which made Jack feel like a hapless chicken trust for the spit. Twenty-one days, three whole weeks in bed? I shouldn't call that quick work, grown the dismayed patient, whose experience of illness had been limited. It is a forty days job, young man, and you must make up your mind to bear it like a hero. We will do our best, but next time, look before you leap, and save your bones. Good night. You'll feel better in the morning. No jigs, remember? And off went the busy doctor for another look at Jill, who had been ordered to bed and left to rest till the other case was attended to. Anyone would have thought Jack's plight much the worse, but the doctor looked more sober over Jill's hurt back than the boy's compound fractures, and the poor little girl had a very bad quarter of an hour while he was trying to discover the extent of the injury. Keep her quiet, and time will show how much damage is done, was all he said in her hearing. But if she had known that he told Mrs. Peck he feared serious consequences, she would have not wondered why her mother cried as she rubbed the numb limbs and placed the pillows so tenderly. Jill suffered most in her mind, for only a sharp stab of pain now and then reminded her of her body. But her remorseful little soul gave her no peace for thinking of Jack, whose bruises and breakages her lively fancy painted in the darkest colors. Oh, don't be good to me, Mammy. I made him go, and now he's hurt dreadfully and may die. And it is all my fault. And everybody ought to hate me, sob poor Jill, as a neighbor left the room after reporting in a minute manner how Jack screamed when his leg was set, and how Frank was found wide as a sheet with his head under the pump while Gus restored the tone of his friend's nerves by pumping as if the house was on fire. Whist my lass and go to sleep. Take a sip of the good wine, Mrs. Minow sent, for you are as cold as a clod, and it breaks my heart to see my Janey so. I can't go to sleep. I don't see how Jack's mother could send me anything when I've half killed him. I want to be cold and ache and have horrid things done to me. Oh, if I ever get out of this bed, I'll be the best girl in the world to pay for this, see if I ain't. And Jill gave such a decided nod that her tears flew all about the pillow like a shower. You'd better begin once, for you won't get out of that bed for a long while, I'm afraid, my lamb, sighed her mother, unable to conceal the anxiety that lay so heavy at her heart. Am I hurt badly, Mammy? I fear it last. I'm glad of it. I ought to be worse than Jack, and I hope I am. I'll bear it well and be good right away. Sing, Mammy, and I'll try to go to sleep to please you. Jill shut her eyes with sudden and unusual meekness, and before her mother had crooned half a dozen verses of an old ballad, the little black head lay still upon the pillow, and repentant Jill was fast asleep with a red mitten in her hand. Mrs. Peck was an Englishwoman who had left Montreal at the death of her husband, a French Canadian, and had come to live in the tiny cottage which stood near Mrs. Minot's big house, separated only by an Arbor Vitae hedge, a sad, silent person who had seen better days, but said nothing about them, and earned her bread by sewing, nursing, work in a factory, or anything that came in her way, being anxious to educate her little girl. Now as she sat beside the bed in the small poor room, that hope almost died within her, for here was the child laid up for months, probably, and the one who was in the house probably, and the one ambition and pleasure of the solitary woman's life was to see Janey Peck's name all over the high marks in the school report she proudly brought home. She'll win through, please, heaven, and I'll see my last a gentle woman yet, thanks to the good friend in Yonder, who will never let her want for care, thought the poor soul, looking out into the gloom where a long ray of light streamed from the great house, warm and comfortable upon the cottage, like the spirit of kindness which made the inmates friends and neighbors. Meantime, that other mother sat by her boy's bed as anxious but with better hope, for Mrs. Minogue made trouble sweet and helpful by the way in which she bore it, and her boys were learning of her how to find silver linings in the clouds that must come into the bluest skies. Jack lay wide awake with hot cheeks and throbbing head, and all sorts of queer sensations in the broken leg. The soothing potion he had taken did not affect him yet, and he tried to beguile the weary time by wondering who came and went below. Gentle rings at the front door and mysterious tappings at the back had been going on all the evening, for the report of the accident had grown astonishingly in its travels, and at eight o'clock the general belief was that Jack had broken both legs, fractured his skull, and lay at the point of death, while Jill had dislocated one shoulder and was bruised black and blue from top to toe. Such being the case, it is no wonder that anxious playmates and neighbors haunted the doorsteps of the two houses, and that offers of help poured in. Frank, having tied up the bell and put a notice on the lighted side window saying, Go to the back door, sat in the parlor supported by his chum, Gus, while Ed played softly on the piano, hoping to lull Jack to sleep. It did soothe him, for a very sweet friendship existed between the tall youth and the lad of thirteen. Ed went with the big fellows, but always had a kind word for the smaller boys. An affectionate Jack, never ashamed to show his love, was often seen with his arm around Ed's shoulder as they sat together in the pleasant red parlours where all the young people were welcome and Frank was king. Is the pain any easier, my darling, asked Mrs. Minot, leaning over the pillow where the golden head lay quiet for a moment? Not much. I forget it listening to the music. Dear old Ed is playing all my favorite tunes, and it is very nice. I guess he feels pretty sorry about me. They all do. Frank could not talk of it. Gus wouldn't go home to tea. He was so anxious to do something for us. Joe brought back the bits of your poor sled because he didn't like to leave them lying round for anyone to carry off, he said. You might like them to remember your fall by. Jack tried to laugh, but it was rather a failure, though he managed to say cheerfully. That was good of old Joe. I wouldn't lend him thunderbolt for fear he'd heard it. Couldn't have smashed it up better than I did, could he? Don't think I want any pieces to remind me of that fall. I just wish you'd seen us, mother. It must have been a splendid spill to look at, anyway. No, thank you. I'd rather not even try to imagine my precious boy going heels overhead down that dreadful hill. No more pranks of that sort for some time, Jackie. And Mrs. Minot looked rather pleased on the whole to have her venturesome bird safe under her maternal wean. No coasting till some time in January. What a fool I was to do it. Go-Banks always are dangerous, and that's the fun of the thing. Oh, dear. Jack threw his arms about and frowned darkly, but never said a word of the willful little baggage who had led him into mischief. He was too much of a gentleman to tell on a girl, though it cost him an effort to hold his tongue, because Mama's good opinion was very precious to him, and he longed to explain. She knew all about it, however, for Jill had been carried into the house, reviling herself for the mishap, and even in the midst of her own anxiety for her boy, Mrs. Minot understood the state of the case without more words. So she now set his mind at rest by saying quietly, Foolish fun as you see, dear. Another time stand firm and help Jill to control her headstrong will. When you learn to yield less and she more, there will be no scrapes like this to try us all. I'll remember, Mother. I hate not to be obliging, but I guess it would have saved us lots of trouble if I'd said no in the beginning. I tried to, but she would go. Poor Jill. I'll take better care of her next time. Is she very ill, Mama? I can tell you better tomorrow. She does not suffer much, and we hope there is no great harm done. I wish she had a nice place like this to be sick in. It must be very pokey in those little rooms, said Jack, as his eye roved round the large chamber where he lay so cozy, warm and pleasant, with the gay chintz curtains draping doors and windows and the rosy carpet, comfortable chairs, and a fire glowing in the grate. I shall see that she suffers for nothing, so don't trouble your kind heart about her to-night, but try to sleep. That's what you need, answered his mother, wetting the bandage on his forehead, and putting a cool hand on the fleshed cheeks. Jack obediently closed his eyes and listened, while the boys sang the sweet by and by, softening their rough young voices for his sake, till the music was as soft as a lullaby. He lay so still, his mother thought he was off, but presently a tear slipped out and rolled down the red cheek, wetting her hand as it passed. My blessed boy, what is it she whispered with a touch and a tone that only mothers have? The blue eyes opened wide, and Jack's own sunshiney smile broke through the tears that filled them as he said with a sniff. Everybody is so good to me. I can't help making a noodle of myself. You are not a noodle, cried Mama, resenting the epithet. One of the sweet things about pain and sorrow is that they show us how well we are loved, how much kindness there is in the world, and how easily we can make others happy in the same way when they need help and sympathy. Don't forget that, little son. Don't see how I can with you to show me how nice it is. Kiss me good night, and then I'll be good, as Jill says. Nestling his head upon his mother's arm, Jack lay quiet till lulled by the music of his mates, he drowsed away into the dreamless sleep which is nurse nature's healthiest soothing syrup for weary souls and bodies. Chapter 3 Ward No. 1 For some days nothing was seen and little was heard of the dear sufferers. As the old ladies called them, but they were not forgotten. The first words uttered when any of the young people met were, How is Jack? Seen Jill yet? And all waited with impatience for the moment when they could be admitted to their favorite mates. More than ever objects of interest now. Meantime the captives spent the first few days in sleep, pain, and trying to accept the hard fact that school and play were done with for months perhaps. But young spirits are wonderfully elastic and soon cheer up, and healthy young bodies heal fast or easily adapt themselves to new conditions. So our invalids began to mend on the fourth day and to drive their nurses distracted with efforts to amuse them before the first week was over. The most successful attempt originated in Ward No. 1 as Mrs. Minot called Jack's apartment, and we will give our sympathizing readers some idea of this place which became the stage where on were enacted many varied and remarkable scenes. Each of the Minot boys had his own room and there collected his own treasures and trophies, arranged to suit his convenience and taste. Franks was full of books, maps, machinery, chemical messes, and geometrical drawings, which adorned the walls like intricate cobwebs, a big chair where he read and studied with his heels higher than his head, a basket of apples for refreshment at all hours of the day or night, and an immense ink stand in which several pens were always apparently bathing their feet, were the principal ornaments of his scholastic retreat. Jack's hobby was athletic sports, for he was bent on having a strong and active body for his happy little soul to live and enjoy itself in. So a severe simplicity reigned in his apartment. In summer especially, for then his floor was bare, his windows were uncurtained, and the chairs uncushed, the bed being as narrow and hard as Napoleon's. The only ornaments were dumbbells, whips, bats, rods, skates, boxing gloves, a big bath pan, and a small library consisting chiefly of books on games, horses, health, hunting, and travels. In winter his mother made things more comfortable by introducing rugs, curtains, and a fire. Jack also relented slightly in the severity of his training, occasionally indulging in the national buckwheat cake instead of the prescribed oatmeal porridge for breakfast, omitting his cold bath when the thermometer was below zero and dancing at night instead of running a given distance by day. Now however he was a helpless captive, given over to all sorts of coddling, laziness, and luxury, and there was a droll mixture of mirth and melancholy in his face as he lay trust up in bed watching the comforts which had suddenly robbed his room of its Spartan simplicity. A delicious couch was there, with Frank reposing in its depths, half hidden under several folios which he was consulting for a history of the steam engine, the subject of his next composition. A white-covered table stood near with all manner of dainties set forth in a way to tempt the sternest principles. Vases of flowers bloomed on the chimney piece, gifts from anxious young ladies left with their love, frivolous storybooks and picture papers strewed the bed now shrouded in effeminate chint's curtains beneath which Jack lay like a wounded warrior in his tent. But the saddest site for our crippled athlete was a glimpse through a half open door at the beloved dumbbells, bats, balls, boxing gloves, and snowshoes all piled ignominiously away in the bath-pan, mournfully recalling the fact that their day was over now, at least for some time. He was about to groan dismally when his eye fell on a site which made him swallow the groan and cough instead, as if it choked him a little. The site was his mother's face as she sat in a low chair rolling bandages with a basket beside her in which there were piles of old linen, lint, plaster, and other matters needed for the dressing of wounds. As he looked Jack remembered how steadily and tenderly she had stood by him all through the hard times just past, and how carefully she had bathed and dressed his wound each day in spite of the effort it cost her to give him pain or even see him suffer. That's a better sort of strength than swinging twenty-pound dumbbells or running races. I guess I'll try for that kind too, and not howl or let her see me squirm when the doctor hurts, thought the boy, as he saw that gentle face so pale and tired with much watching and anxiety, yet so patient, serene, and cheerful that it was like sunshine. Lie down and take a good nap, mother dear. I feel first rate, and Frank can see to me if I want anything. Do now, he added with a persuasive nod toward the couch, and a boyish relish in stirring up his lazy brother. After some urging, Mama consented to go to her room for forty winks, leaving Jack in the care of Frank, begging him to be as quiet as possible. If the dear boy wished to sleep and to amuse him if he did not. Being worn out, Mrs. Minot lengthened her forty winks into a three-hours nap, and as the dear boy scorned repose, Mr. Frank had his hands full while on guard. I'll read to you. Here's what, Arkwright, Fulton, and a lot of capital fellows with pictures that will do your heart good. Have a bit, will you? asked the new nurse, flapping leaves invitingly, for Frank had a passion for such things, and drew steam engines all over his slate as Tommy Trottles drew hosts of skeletons when low in his spirits. I don't want any of your old boilers and stokers and whirly gigs. I'm tired of reading, and want something regularly jolly, answered Jack, who had been chasing white buffaloes with the hunters of the West till he was a trifle tired and fractious. Play cribbage, yooker, anything you like, and Frank obligingly disinterred himself from under the folios, feeling that it was hard for a fellow to lie flat a whole week. No fun, just two of us. Wish school was over, so the boys would come in. Doctor said I might see them now. They'll be along by and by, and I'll hail them. Till then, what shall we do? I'm your man for anything, only put a name to it. Just wish I had a telegraph or a telephone so I could talk to Jill. Wouldn't it be fun to pipe across and get an answer? I'll make either you say, and Frank looked as if trifles of that sort were to be had for the asking. Could you really? We'll start the telegraph first, then you can send things over, if you like, said Frank, prudently proposing the surest experiment. Go ahead then. I'd like that, and so would Jill, for I know she wants to hear from me. There's one trouble, though, I shall have to leave you alone for a few minutes while I rig up the ropes. And Frank looked sober, for he was a faithful boy, and did not want to desert his post. Oh, never mind, I won't want anything. If I do, I can pound for Anne. And wake, mother? I'll fix you a better way than that. And full of inventive genius our young Edison spliced the poker to part of a fishing-rod in a jiffy, making a long-handled hook which reached across the room. There's an arm for you, now hook away and let's see how it works, he said. Handing over the instrument to Jack, who proceeded to show its unexpected capabilities, by hooking the cloth off the table in attempting to get his handkerchief, catching Frank by the hair when fishing for a book, and breaking a pane of glass in trying to draw down the curtain. It's so everlasting long I can't manage it, laughed Jack, as it finally caught in his bed-hangings and nearly pulled them wringing all down upon his head. Let it alone, unless you need something very much and don't bother about the glass, it's just what we want for the telegraph wire or rope to go through. Keep still, and I'll have the thing running in ten minutes. And delighted with the job, Frank hurried away, leaving Jack to compose a message to send as soon as it was possible. What in the world is that flying across the Minnows' yard? A brown hen or a boy's kite, exclaimed old Mrs. Hopkins, peering out of her window at the singular performances going on in her opposite neighbor's garden. First, Frank appeared with a hatchet and chopped a clear space in the hedge between his own house and the cottage. Next, a clothesline was passed through this aperture and fastened somewhere on the other side. Lastly, a small covered basket slung on this rope was seen hitching along, drawn either way by a set of strings. Then as if satisfied with his job, Frank retired whistling, Hail Columbia! It's those children at their pranks again! I thought broken bones wouldn't keep them out of mischief long, said the old lady, watching with great interest the mysterious basket traveling up and down the rope from the big house to the cottage. If she had seen what came and went over the wires of the great international telegraph, she would have laughed till her spectacles flew off her Roman nose. A letter from Jack with a large orange went first, explaining the new enterprise. Dear Jill, it's too bad you can't come over to see me. I am pretty well, but awful tired of keeping still. I want to see you ever so much. Frank has fixed us a telegraph, so we can write and send things. Won't it be jolly? I can't look out to see him do it. But when you pull your string, my little bell rings, and I know a message is coming. I send you an orange. Do you like gorver jelly? People send in lots of goodies, and we will go halves. Goodbye, Jack. Away went the basket, and in fifteen minutes it came back from the cottage with nothing in it but the orange. Hello. Is she mad? asked Jack, as Frank brought the dispatch for him to examine. But at the first touch the hollow peel opened and out fell a letter, two gum drops, and an owl made of a peanut with round eyes drawn at the end where the stem formed a funny beak. Two bits of straw were the legs, and the face looks so like Dr. Whitting that the both boys laughed at the sight. That's so like Jill. She'd make fun if she were half dead. Let's see what she says. And Jack read the little note which showed a sad neglect of the spelling book. Dear Jackie, I can't stir and it's horrid. The telegraph, T-E-L-L-Y-G-R-A-F, is very nice, and we will have fun with it. I never ate any gorver jelly. The orange was first rate. Send me a book to read all about bears and ships and crocky dials, C-R-O-C-K-Y-D-I-L-E-S. The doctor was coming to see you, so I sent him the quickest way. Molly Liu says it is dreadful lonesome at school without us. Yours truly, Jill. Jack immediately dispatched the book and a sample of guava jelly, which unfortunately upset on the way to the great detriment to the wild beast of Asia and Africa. Jill promptly responded with the loan of a tiny black kitten, who emerged spitting and scratching to Jack's great delight. And he was cuddling his brains as to how a fat white rabbit could be transported when a shrill whistle from without saved Jill from that inconvenient offering. It's the fellows, do you want to see them? asked Frank, gazing down with calm superiority upon the three eager faces which looked up at him. I guess I do, said Jack promptly, throwing the kitten overboard, scorning to be seen by any manly eye amusing himself with such girlish toys. Bang! went the front door. Tramp, tramp, tramp, came six-booted feet up the stairs. And as Frank threw wide the door, three large beings paused on the threshold to deliver the courteous, hello, which is the established greeting among boys on all social occasions. Come along, old fellows, I'm ever so glad to see you, cried the invalid, with such energetic demonstrations of the arms that he looked as if about to fly or crow like an excited young cockerel. How are you, Major? Does the leg ache much, Jack? Mr. Phipps says you'll have to pay for the new rails. With these characteristic greetings the gentlemen cast away their hats and sat down, all grinning cheerfully, and all with eyes irresistibly fixed upon the dainties, which proved too much for the politeness of the ever-hungry boys. Help yourselves, said Jack, with his hospitable wave. All the dear old ladies in town have been sending in nice things, and I can't begin to eat them up. Lend a hand and clear away this lot, or we shall have to throw them out of the window. Bring on the donuts and the tarts and the shaky stuff in the entry-closet, Frank, and let's have a lark. No sooner said than done, Gus took the tarts, Joe the donuts, Ed the jelly, and Frank suggested spoons all round for the Italian cream. A few trifles in the way of custard, fruit, and wafer biscuits were not worth mentioning. But every dish was soon emptied, and Jack said as he surveyed the scene of devastation with great satisfaction. Call again tomorrow, gentlemen, and we will have another bout. Free lunches at five p.m. till further notice. Now tell me all the news. For half an hour five tongues went like mill clappers, and there is no knowing when they would have stopped if the little bell had not suddenly rung with a violence that made them jump. That's Jill. See what she wants, Frank. And while his brother sent off the basket, Jack told about the new invention, and invited his mates to examine and admire. They did so, and shouted with merriment when the next dispatch from Jill arrived. A paste-board jumping Jack with one leg done up in cotton wool to preserve the likeness, and a great lump of molasses candy in a brown paper with a accompanying note. Dear sir, I saw the boys go in and know you were having a nice time, so I sent over the candy Molly Lou and Mary brought me. Mammy says I can't eat it, and it will all melt away if I keep it. Also a picture of Jack Minot, who will dance on one leg and waggle the other and make you laugh. I wish I could come too. Don't you hate gruel? I do. In haste, JP. Let's all send her a letter, proposed Jack, and out came pens, ink, paper, and the lamp. And everyone fell to scribbling. A droll collection was the result, for Frank drew a picture of the fatal fall with broken rails flying in every direction. Jack with his head swollen to the size of a balloon, and Jill in two pieces, while the various boys and girls were hit off with a sly skill that gave Gus legs like a stork, Molly Lou here several yards long, and Boo a series of visible howls coming out of his immense mouth in the shape of oes. The oxen were particularly good, for their horns branched like those of the moose, and Mr. Grant had a patriarchal beard which waved in the breeze as he bore the wounded girl to a sled, very like a funeral pyre, the stakes being crowned with big mittens like torches. You ought to be an artist. I never saw such a dabster as you are. That's the very moral of Joe, all in a bunch on the fence, with a blot to show how purple his nose was, said Gus, holding up the sketch for general criticism and admiration. I'd rather have a red nose than legs like a grasshopper, so you'd needn't twit daddy, growled Joe, quite unconscious that a blot actually did adorn his nose, as he labored over a brief dispatch. The boys enjoyed the joke, and one after the other read out his message to the captive lady. Dear Jill, sorry you ain't here. Great fun. Jack's pretty lively. Laura and Lott would send love if they knew of the chance. Fly round and get well, Gus. Dear Gillyflower, hope you are pretty comfortable in your dungeon cell. Would you like a serenade when the moon comes? Hope you will soon be up again, for we miss you very much. Shall be very happy to help in any way I can. Love to your mother, your true friend, Ed. Miss Peck, dear Madame, I am happy to tell you that we are all well, and hope you are the same. I gave Jim Cox a licking because he went to your desk. You had better send for your books. You won't have to pay for the sled or the fence. Jack says he will see to it. We have been having a spread over here. First rate things. I wouldn't mind breaking a leg if I had such good grub and no chores to do. No more now from yours with esteem. Joseph P. Flint. Joe thought that an elegant epistle, having copied portions of it from the letter-writer and proudly read it off to the boys, who assured him that Jill would be much impressed. Now, Jack, hurry up and let us send the light off, for we must go, said Gus, as Frank put the letters in the basket, and the clatter of tea things was heard below. I'm not going to show mine, it's private, and you mustn't look, answered Jack, patting down an envelope with such care that no one had a chance to peep. But Joe had seen the little note copied, and while the others were at the window working the telegraph, he caught up the original, carelessly thrust by Jack under the pillow, and read it aloud before anyone knew what he was about. My dear, I wish I could send you some of my good times, as I can't, I send you much love, and I hope you will try and be patient, as I am going to, for it was our fault, and we must not make a fuss now. Ain't mother's sweet, mine is coming over tomorrow to see you, and tell me how you are. This round thing is a kiss for good night, your Jack. Isn't that Spoonie? You'd better hide your face, I think. He's getting to be a regular molly-cattle, isn't he? teared Joe, as the boys laughed, and then grew sober, seeing Jack's head buried in the bed-clothes after sending a pillow at his tormentor. It nearly hit Mrs. Minot coming in with her patient's tea on a tray, and at sight of her the guests hurriedly took leave. Joe nearly tumbling downstairs to escape from Frank, who would have followed if his mother had not said quickly. Stay and tell me what is the matter. Only teasing Jack a bit. Don't be mad, old boy. Joe didn't mean any harm, and it was rather soft now, wasn't it? asked Frank, trying to appease the wounded feelings of his brother. I charged you not to worry him. Those boys were too much for the poor dear, and I ought not to have left him, said Mama, as she vainly endeavored to find and caress the yellow head, burrowed so far out of sight that nothing but one red ear was visible. He liked it, and we got on capitally till Joe roughed him about Jill. I thought Gus and Ed would do that little job for me, added Frank, running to the window, as the sound of stifled cries and laughter reached him. The red ear heard also, and Jack popped up his head to ask with interest. What are they doing to him? Rolling him in the snow when he's howling like fun. Serves him right, muttered Jack with a frown. Then, as a wail arose suggestive of an unpleasant mixture of snow in the mouth and thumps on the back, he burst out laughing and said good-naturedly. Go and stop them, Frank. I won't mind. Only tell him it was a mean trick. Hurry! Gus is so strong he doesn't know how his pounding hurts. Off ran Frank, and Jack told his wrongs to his mother. She sympathized heartily and saw no harm in the affectionate little note, which would please Jill, and help her to bear her trials patiently. It isn't silly to be fond of her, is it? She is so nice and funny, and tries to be good, and likes me, and I won't be ashamed of my friends if folks do laugh, protested Jack with a wrap of his teaspoon. No, dear, it is quite kind and proper, and I'd rather have you play with a merry little girl than with rough boys till you are big enough to hold your own, answered mama, putting the cup to his lips, that the reclining lad might take his broma without spilling. Poo! I don't mean that. I'm strong enough now to take care of myself, cried Jack stoutly. I can thrust you any day if I like. Just look at my arm, there is a muscle for you, and up went a sleeve to the great danger of overturning the tray, as the boy proudly displayed his biceps and expanded his chest, both of which were very fine for a lad of his years. If I'd been on my legs he wouldn't have dared to insult me, and it was cowardly to hit him fellow when he was down. Mrs. Minot wanted to laugh at Jack's indignation, but the bell rang and she had to go and pull in the basket, much amused at the new game. Burning to distinguish herself in the eyes of the big boys, Jill had sent over a tall, red, flannel nightcap, which she had been making for some proposed Christmas plays, and added the following verse, for she was considered a gifted rhymester at the game parties. When it comes night, we put out the light, some blow with a puff, some turn down and snuff, but neat folks prefer a nice extinguish her, so here I send you back when to put on Mr. Jack. Now I call that regularly smart, not one of us could do it, and I just wish Joe was here to see it. I want to send once more, something good for tea, she hates gruel so. And the last dispatch, which the great international telegraph carried that day, was a baked apple and a warm muffin, with J. M.'s best regards. 4. Ward No. 2 Things were not so gay in Ward No. 2. For Mrs. Peck was very busy, and Jill had nothing to amuse her, but flying visits from the girls, and such little plays as she could invent for herself in bed. Fortunately she had a lively fancy and so got on pretty well, till keeping still grew unbearable, and the active child ached in every limb to be up and out. That, however, was impossible, for the least attempt to sit or stand brought on the pain that took her breath away, and made her glad to lie flat again. The doctors spoke cheerfully, but looked sober, and Mrs. Peck began to fear that Janey was to be a cripple for life. She said nothing, but Jill's quick eyes saw an added trouble in the always anxious face, and it depressed her spirits, though she never guessed half the mischief the fall had done. The telegraph was a great comfort, and the two invalids kept up a lively correspondence, not to say traffic in light articles, for the great international was the only aerial express in existence, but even this amusement flagged after a time. Neither had much to tell, and when the daily health bulletins had been exchanged, messages gave out, and the baskets, travels, grew more and more infrequent. Neither could read all the time, games were soon used up, their mates were at school most of the day, and after a week or two the poor children began to get pale and fractious with the confinement, always so irksome to young people. I do believe the child will fret herself into a fever, Mem, and I'm quite distraught to know what to do for her. She never used to mine trifles, but now she frets about the oddest things, and I can't change them. This wallpaper is well enough, but she has taken a fancy that the spots on it look like spiders, and it makes her nervous. I've no other warm place to put her, and no money for a new paper. Poor lass, there are hard times before her I'm fearing. Mrs. Peck said this in a low voice to Mrs. Minot, who came in as often as she could, to see what her neighbor needed. For both mothers were anxious, and sympathy drew them to one another. While one woman talked the other looked about the little room, not wondering in the least that Jill found it hard to be contented there. It was very neat, but so plain that there was not even a picture on the walls, nor an ornament upon the mantle, except the necessary clock, lamp, and matchbox. The paper was ugly, being a deep buff with a brown figure that did look very like spiders sprawling over it, and might well make one nervous to look at day after day. Jill was asleep in the folding chair Dr. Whitting had sent, with a mattress to make it soft. The back could be raised or lowered at will, but only a few inches had been gained as yet, and the thin hair pillow was all she could bear. She looked very pretty as she lay, with dark lashes against the feverish cheeks, lips apart, and a cloud of curly black locks all about the face pillowed on one arm. She seemed like a brilliant little flower in that dull place, for the French blood in her veins gave her a color, warmth, and grace which was very charming. Her natural love of beauty showed itself in many ways. A red ribbon had tied up her hair, a gay but faded shawl was thrown over the bed, and the gifts sent her were arranged with care upon the table by her side, among her own few toys and treasures. There was something pathetic in this childish attempt to beautify the poor place, and Mrs. Minot's eyes were full as she looked at the tired woman, whose one joy and comfort lay there in such a sad plight. My dear soul, cheer up, and we will help one another through the hard times, she said, with a soft hand on the rough one, and a look that promised much. Please, God, we will, Mem, with such good friends I never should complain. I try not to do it, but it breaks my heart to see my little last spoiled for life, most like. And Mrs. Peck pressed the kind hand with a despondent sigh. We won't say or even think that yet. Everything is possible to youth and health like Janies. We must keep her happy and time will do the rest. I'm sure. Let us begin at once and have a surprise for her when she wakes. As she spoke, Mrs. Minot moved quietly about the room, pinning the pages of several illustrated papers against the wall at the foot of the bed, and placing to the best advantage the other comfort she had brought. Keep up your heart, neighbor. I have an idea in my head which I think will help us all. If I can carry it out, she said cheerily as she went, leaving Mrs. Peck just so on Jack's new nightgowns, with swift fingers, and with grateful wish that she might work for these good friends forever. As if the whispering and rustling had disturbed her, Jill soon began to stir, and slowly opened the eyes which had closed so weirdly on the dull December afternoon. The bare wall with its brown spiders no longer confronted her, but the colored print of a little girl dancing to the tune her father was playing on a guitar, while a stately lady with satin dress, rough, and powder stood looking on well pleased. The quaint figure in its belaced frock, quilted petticoat, and red-heeled shoes seemed to come tripping toward her in such a lifelike way that she almost saw the curls blow back, heard the rustle of the rich brocade, and caught the sparkle of the little maid's bright eyes. Oh, how pretty! Who sent them? asked Jill eagerly as her eyes glanced along the wall, seeing other new and interesting things beyond. An elephant hunt, a ship in full sail, a horse race, and a ballroom. The good fairy who never comes empty-handed, look round a bit and you will see more prettys all for you, my dearie, and her mother pointed to a bunch of purple grapes in a green leaf plate, a knot of bright flowers pinned on the white curtain, and a gay little double gown across the foot of the bed. Jill clapped her hands and was enjoying her new pleasures, when in came Mary and Molly Liu, with Boo, of course, trotting after her like a fat and amiable puppy. Then the good times began, the gown was put on, the fruit tasted, and the pictures were studied like famous works of art. It's a splendid plan to cover up that hateful wall, I'd stick pictures all round and have a gallery. That reminds me, up in the garret at our house is a box full of old-fashioned books my aunt left. I often look at them on rainy days, and they are very funny. I'll go this minute and get every one, we can pin them up, or make paper dolls. And away rushed Molly Liu with a small brother waddling behind, for when he lost sight of her he was desolate indeed. The girls had fits of laughter over the queer costumes of years gone by, and put up a splendid procession of ladies in full skirts, towering hats, pointed slippers, powdered hair, simpering faces and impossible wastes. I do think this bride is perfectly splendid. The long train and veil are so sweet, said Jill, reveling in fine clothes as she turned from one plate to another. I like the elephants best, and I'd give anything to go on a hunt like that, cried Molly Liu, who rode cows, drove any horse she could get, had nine cats, and was not afraid of the biggest dog that ever barked. I fancy the dancing lesson. It is so sort of splendid, with the great windows, gold chairs, and fine folks. Oh, I would like to live in a castle with a father and mother like that, said Mary, who was romantic and found the old farmhouse on the hill, a sad trial to her high-flown ideas of elegance. Now that ship setting out for some faraway place is more to my mind. I weary for home now and then, and mean to see it again some day, and Mrs. Peck looked longingly at the English ship that was evidently outward bound. Then as if reproaching herself for discontent, she added, It looks like those I used to see going off to India with a load of missionaries. I came near going myself once with a lady bound for Siam, but I went to Canada with her sister, and here I am. I'd like to be a missionary and go where folks throw their babies to the crocodiles. I'd watch and fish them out, and have a school and bring them up, and convert all the people till they knew better, said warm-hearted Molly Liu, who befriended every abused animal and forlorn child she met. We needn't go to Africa to be missionaries. They have them nearer home and need them too. In all the big cities there are a many, and they have their hands full with the poor, the wicked, and the helpless. One can find that sort of work anywhere if one has a mind, said Mrs. Peck. I wish we had some to do here. I'd still like to go around with baskets of tea and rice, and give out tracks and talk to people. Wouldn't you girls, asked Molly, much taken with the new idea? It would be rather nice to have a society all to ourselves, and have meetings and resolutions and things, answered Mary, who was fond of little ceremonies, and always went to the sewing circle with her mother. We wouldn't let the boys come in. We'd have it a secret society, as they do their temperance lodge, and we'd have badges and passwords and grips. It would be fun if we could only get some heathen to work at, cried Jill, ready for fresh enterprises of every sort. I can tell you someone to begin on right away, said her mother, nodding at her, as wild a little savage as I'd wish to see. Take her in hand and make a pretty mannered lady of her. Begin at home, my lass, and you'll find missionary work enough for a while. Now, Mammy, you mean me. Well, I will begin, and I'll be so good, folks won't know me. Being sick makes naughty children behave in story books. I'll see if live ones can't. And Jill put on such a sanctified face that the girls laughed and asked for their missions also, thinking they would be the same. You, Mary, might do a deal at home helping mother, and setting the big brothers a good example. One little girl in a house can do pretty much as she will, especially if she has a mind to make plain things nice and comfortable, and not long for castles before she knows how to do her own tasks well, was the first unexpected reply. Mary colored, but took the reproof sweetly, resolving to do what she could. And surprised to find how many ways seemed to open up to her after a few minutes' thought. Where shall I begin? I'm not afraid of a dozen crocodiles after Miss Bat, and Molly Lou looked about her with a fierce air, having had practice in battles with the old lady who kept her father's house. Well, dear, you haven't far to look for a nice little heathen as you'd wish, and Mrs. Peck glanced at Boo, who sat on the floor staring hard at them, attracted by the dread-word crocodile. He had a cold and no handkerchief. His little hands were red with chill-blanes, his clothes shabby, he had untiny darns in the knees of his stockings, and a head of tight curls that evidently had not been combed for some time. Yes, I know he is, and I try to keep him decent, but I forget, and he hates to be fixed, and Miss Bat doesn't care, and father laughs when I talk about it. Poor Molly Lou looked much ashamed, as she made excuses trying at the same time to mend matters by seizing Boo and dusting him all over with her handkerchief, giving a pull at his hair as if ringing bells, and then dumping him down again with a despairing exclamation. Yes, we're a pair of heathens, and there's no one to save us if I don't. That was true enough, for Molly's father was a busy man, careless of everything but his mills. Miss Bat was an old and lazy, and felt as if she might take life easy after serving the motherless children for many years as well as she knew how. Molly was beginning to see how much amiss things were at home, and old enough to feel mortified, though as yet she had done nothing to mend the matter, except be kind to the little boy. You will, my dear, answered Mrs. Peck, encouragingly, for she knew all about it. Now you've each got a mission. Let us see how well you will get on. Keep it secret, if you like, and report once a week. I'll be a member and will do great things yet. We won't begin till after Christmas. There is so much to do. We never shall have time for any more. Don't tell, and we'll start fair at New Year's, if not before, said Jill, taking the lead as usual. Then they went on with the gay ladies, who certainly were heathen enough in dress to be in sad need of conversion, to common sense at least. I feel as if I was at a party, said Jill, after a pause, occupied in surveying her gallery with great satisfaction. For dress was her delight, and here she had every conceivable style and color. Talking of parties, isn't it too bad that we must give up our Christmas fun? Can't get on without you and Jack, so we are not going to do a thing but just have our presents, said Mary sadly, as they began to fit different heads and bodies together to try droll effects. I shall be all well in a fortnight. I know. But Jack won't, for it will take more than a month to mend his poor leg. Maybe they will have a dance in the boy's big room and he can look on, suggested Jill, with a glance at the dancing damsel on the wall. For she dearly loved it, and never guessed how long it would be before her light feet would keep time to music again. You'd better give Jack a hint about the party, send over some smart ladies and say they have come to his Christmas ball, proposed audacious molly-loo, always ready for fun. So they put a preposterous green bonnet, top heavy with plumes, on a little lady in yellow, who sat in a carriage. The lady beside her in winter costume of velvet police and ermined boa were fitted to a bride's head with its orange flowers and veil. And these works of art were sent over to Jack, labeled Miss Laura and Lottie Burton going to the minnows Christmas ball. A piece of naughtiness on Jill's part, for she knew Jack liked the pretty sisters, whose gentle manners made her own wild ways seem all the more blamable. No answer came for a long time, and the girls had almost forgotten their joke in a game of letters. When tinkle-tinkle went the bell and the basket came in heavily laden. A roll of coloured papers was tied outside, and within was a box that rattled. A green and silver horn, a roll of narrow ribbons, a spool of strong thread, some large needles, and a note from Mrs. Minot. Dear Jill, I think of having a Christmas tree so that our invalids can enjoy it, and all your elegant friends are courageously invited. Knowing that you would like to help, I send some paper for sugarplum horns, and some beads for necklaces. They will brighten the tree and please the girls for themselves or their dolls. Jack sends you a horn for a pattern, and will you make a ladder necklace to show him how? Let me know if you need anything. Yours in haste, Anna Minot. She knew what the child would like, bless her kind heart, said Mrs. Peck to herself, and something brighter than the most silvery bead shown on Jack's shirt sleeve, as she saw the rapture of Jill over the new work and the promised pleasure. Joyful cries greeted the opening of the box. For bunches of splendid large bugles appeared in all colours, and a lively discussion went on as to the best contrasts. Jill could not refuse to let her friends share the pretty work, and soon three necklaces glittered on three necks, as each admired her own choice. I'd be willing to hurt my back dreadfully if I could lie and do such lovely things all day, said Mary, as she reluctantly put down her needle at last, for home duties waited to be done, and looked more than ever just tasteful after this new pleasure. So would I. Oh, do you think Mrs. Minot will let you fill the horns when they are done? I'd love to help you then. Be sure you send for me, cried Molly Lou, arching her neck like a proud pigeon to watch the glitter of her purple and gold necklace on her brown gown. I'm afraid you couldn't be trusted. You love sweetie so, and I'm sure Boo couldn't, but I'll see about it, replied Jill with a responsible air. The mention of the boy recalled him to their minds, and looking round they found him peacefully absorbed in polishing up the floor with Molly's pocket handkerchief and oil from the little machine can. Being torn from this congenial labor he was carried off shining with grease and roaring lustily. But Jill did not mind her loneliness now, and saying like a happy canary while she threaded her sparkling beads or hung the gay horns to dry, ready for their cargos of sweets. So Mrs. Minot's recipe for sunshine proves successful, and Mother Witt made the wintery day a bright and happy one for both the little prisoners. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 of Jack and Jill This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Anderson Jack and Jill by Louisa May Alcott Chapter 5 Secrets There were a great many clubs in Harmony Village, but as we intend to interest ourselves with the affairs of the young folks only, we need not dwell upon the intellectual amusements of the elders. In summer the boys devoted themselves to baseball, the girls to boating, and all got rosy, stout, and strong in these healthful exercises. In winter the lads had their debating club, the lasses a dramatic ditto. At the former astonishing bursts of oratory were heard. At the latter everything was boldly attempted from Romeo and Juliet to Mother Goose's immortal melodies. The two clubs frequently met and mingled their attractions in a really entertaining manner. For the speakers made good actors, and the young actresses were most appreciative listeners to the eloquence of each budding demasthanese. Great plans had been afoot for Christmas or New Year, but when the grand catastrophe put an end to the career of one of the best spouters, and caused the retirement of the favourite singing chambermaid, the affair was postponed till February, when Washington's birthday was always celebrated by the patriotic town, where the father of his country once put on his nightcap, or took off his boots, as that ubiquitous hero appears to have done in every part of the United States. Meantime the boys were studying revolutionary characters, and the girls rehearsing such dramatic scenes as they thought most appropriate and effective for the twenty second. In both of these attempts they were much helped by the sense and spirit of Ralph Evans, a youth of nineteen who was a favourite with the young folks, not only because he was a good industrious fellow who supported his grandmother, but also full of talent, fun, and ingenuity. It was no wonder everyone who really knew him liked him, for he could turn his hand to anything and love to do it. If the girls were in despair about a fireplace when acting the cricket on the hearth, he painted one, and put a glass slog in it that made the kettle really boil to their great delight. If the boys found the interest of their club flagging, Ralph would convulse them by imitations of the member from Cranberry Centre, or fire them with speeches of famous statesmen. Charity fairs could not get on without him, and in the store where he worked he did many an ingenious job, which made him valued for his mechanical skill, as well as for his energy and integrity. Mrs. Minot liked to have him with her sons, because they also were to paddle their own canoes by and by, and she believed that rich or poor boys make better men for learning to use the talents they possess, not merely as ornaments, but tools with which to carve their own fortunes. And the best help toward this end is an example of faithful work, high aims, and honest living. So Ralph came often, and in times of trouble was a real rainy day friend. Jack grew very fond of him during his imprisonment, for the good youth ran in every evening to get commissions, amuse the boy with droll accounts of the day's adventures, or invent lifts, bed tables, and foot rests for the impatient invalid. Frank found him a sure guide to the mechanical mysteries which he loved, and spent many a useful half hour discussing cylinders, pistons, valves, and balance wheels. Jill also came in for her share of care and comfort. The poor little back lay all the easier for the air-cushion Ralph got her, and the weary headaches found relief from the spray atomizer which softly distilled its scented dew on the hot forehead till she fell asleep. Round the beds of Jack and Jill met and mingled the schoolmates of whom our story treats. Never probably did invalids have gayer times than our two. After a week of solitary confinement, for school gossip crept in, games could not be prevented, and Christmas secrets were concocted in those rooms till they were regular conspirators dense when they were not little bedlams. After the horn and bead labours were over, the stringing of popcorn on red, and cranberries on white, threads came next. And Jack and Jill often looked like a new kind of spider in the pretty webs hung about them, till reeled off to bide their time in the Christmas closet. Paper flowers followed, and gay garlands and bouquets blossomed, regardless of the snow and frost without. Then there was a great scribbling of names, verses and notes, to accompany the steadily increasing store of odd parcels which were collected at the minnows, for gifts from everyone were to ornament the tree, and the contributions poured in as the day drew near. But the secret which most excited the young people was the deep mystery of certain proceedings at the minnow house. No one but Frank, Ralph, and Mama knew what it was, and the two boys nearly drove the others distracted by the tantalizing way in which they hinted at joys to come. Talked strangely about birds, went measuring round with foot-rules, and shut themselves up in the boy's den, as a certain large room was called. This seemed to be the center of operations. But beyond the fact of the promised tree, no ray of light was permitted to pass the jealously guarded doors. Strange men with paste-pots and ladders went in, furniture was dragged about, and all sorts of boyish lumber was sent up garret and down cellar. Mrs. Minnow was seen pondering over heaps of green stuff, hammering was heard, singular bundles were smuggled upstairs, flowering plants betrayed their presence by whiffs of fragrance when the door was opened, and Mrs. Peck was caught smiling all by herself in a back bedroom, which usually was shut up in winter. They are going to have a play after all. And that green stuff was the curtain, said Mollie Lou as the girls talked it over one day, when they sat with their backs turned to one another, putting last stitches in certain bits of work which had to be concealed from all eyes, though it was found convenient to ask one another's tastes as to the color, materials, and sizes of these mysterious odricles. I think it is going to be a dance. I heard the boys doing their steps when I went in last evening to find out whether Jack liked blue or yellow best. So I could put the bow on his pen wiper, declared Mary, knitting briskly away at the last of the pair of pretty white bed socks she was making for Jill right under her inquisitive little nose. They wouldn't have a party of that kind without Jack and me. It is only an extra nice tree, you see if it isn't, answered Jill, from behind the pillows, which made a temporary screen to hide the toilet mat she was preparing for all her friends. Every one of you is wrong and you'd better rest easy, for you won't find out the best part of it, try as you may. And Mrs. Peck actually chuckled as she, too, worked away at some bits of muslin with her back turned to the very unsocial-looking group. Well, I don't care, we've got a secret all our own and won't ever tell, will we? cried Jill, falling back on the whole missionary society, though it had not yet begun. Never, answered the girls, and all took great comfort in the idea that one mystery would not be cleared up, even at Christmas. Jack gave up guessing in despair after he suggested a new dining-room where he could eat with a family, a private school in which his lessons might go on with a tutor, or a theatre for the production of the farces in which he delighted. It is going to be used to keep something in it that you are very fond of, said Mama, taking pity on him at last. Ducks asked Jack with a half-pleased, half-puzzle there, not quite seeing where the water was to come from. Frank exploded at the idea and added to the mystification by saying, There will be one little duck and one great donkey in it, then fearing he had told the secret he ran off, quacking in brain derisively. It is to be used for creatures that I, too, am fond of, and you know neither donkeys nor ducks are favourites of mine, said Mama, with a demure expression as she sat turning over old clothes for the bundles that always went to poor neighbours with a little store of goodies at this time of year. I know! I know! It is to be a new word for more sick folks, isn't it now? cried Jack, with what he thought was a great proof of shrewdness. I don't see how I could attend to many more patients till this one is off my hands, answered Mama, with a queer smile, adding quickly, as if she too were afraid of letting the cat out of the bag. That reminds me of a Christmas I once spent among the hospitals and poor houses of a great city with a good lady who, for thirty years, had made it her mission to see that these poor little souls had one merry day. We gave away two hundred dolls, several great boxes of candy and toys, besides gay pictures and new clothes to orphan children, sick babies, and half-grown innocents. Ah, my boy, that was a day to remember all my life, to make me doubly grateful for my blessings, and very glad to serve the helpless and afflicted as that dear woman did. The look and tone with which the last words were uttered effectually turned Jack's thoughts from the great secret, and started another small one, for he fell to planning what he would buy with his pocket-money to surprise the little pats and bitties who were to have no Christmas tree. CHAPTER VI. SURPRISES. Is it pleasant, was the question Jill asked before she was fairly awake on Christmas morning? Yes, dear, as bright as heart could wish. Now eat a bit, and then I'll make you nice for the day's pleasure. I only hope it won't be too much for you, answered Mrs. Peck, bustling about, happy yet anxious. For Jill was to be carried over to Mrs. Minnows, and it was her first attempt at going out since the accident. It seemed as if nine o'clock would never come, and Jill, with raps already, lay waiting in a fever of impatience for the doctor's visit, as he wished to superintend the moving. At last he came, found all promising, and having bundled up his small patient, carried her with Frank's help in her chair-bed to the ox sled, which was drawn to the next door, and Miss Jill landed in the boy's den before she had time to get either cold or tired. Mrs. Minow took her things off with a cordial welcome. But Jill never said a word. For after one exclamation she lay staring about her, dumb with surprise and the light at what she saw. The great room was entirely changed. For now it looked like a garden, or one of the fairy-scenes children love, where indoors and out of doors are pleasantly combined. The ceiling was pale blue like the sky. The walls were covered with paper, like a rustic trellis, up which climbed morning glories so naturally that the many-coloured bells seemed dancing in the wind. Birds and butterflies flew among them, and here and there, through arches in the trellis, one seemed to look into a sunny summer world, contrasting curiously with the wintry landscape lying beyond the real windows. Festooned with evergreen garlands, and curtained only by stands of living flowers, a green druget covered the floor like grass, rustic chairs from the gardens stood about, and in the middle of the room a handsome hemlock waited for its pretty burden. A eulog blazed on the white hearth, and over the chimney-piece framed in holly shown the words that set all hearts to dancing. Merry Christmas! Do you like it, dear? This is our surprise for you and Jack, and here we mean to have good times together, said Mrs. Minot, who had stood quietly enjoying the effect of her work. Oh, it is so lovely! I don't know what to say! And Jill put up both arms as words failed her, and grateful kisses were all she had to offer. Can you suggest anything more to add to the pleasantness, asked the gentle lady, holding the small hands of her own, and feeling well repaid by the child's delight? Only Jack! And Jill's laugh was good to hear, as she glanced up with merry yet wistful eyes. You are right! We'll have him in at once, or he will come hopping on one leg. And away hurried his mother, laughing too, for whistles, shouts, thumps, and violent demonstrations of all kinds had been heard from the room where Jack was raging with impatience, while he waited for his share of the surprise. Jill could hardly lie still when she heard the roll of another chair-bed coming down the hall. Its passage enlivened with cries of starboard, port! Easy now! Pull away! From Ralph and Frank, as they steered the recumbent Columbus on his first voyage of discovery. Well, I call that handsome was Jack's exclamation when the full beauty of the scene burst upon his view. Then he forgot all about it, and gave a whoop of pleasure, for there beside the fire was an eager face, two hands beckoning and Jill's voice crying joyfully. I'm here! I'm here! Oh, do come quick! Down the long room rattled the chair, Jack cheering all the way, and brought up beside the other one, as the long-parted friends exclaimed with one accord. Isn't this jolly? It certainly did look so, for Ralph and Frank danced a wild sort of fandango round the tree. Dr. Whitting stood and laughed, while the two mothers beamed from the doorway. And the children, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry, compromised the matter by clapping their hands and shouting, Merry Christmas to everybody like a pair of little maniacs. Then they all sobered down, and the busy ones went off to the various duties of the day, leaving the young invalids to repose and enjoy themselves together. How nice you look, said Jill, when they had duly admired the pretty room. So do you, gallantly returned Jack, as he surveyed her with unusual interest. They did look very nice, though happiness was the principal beautifier. Jill wore a red wrapper, with the most brilliant of all the necklaces sparkling at her throat, over a nicely crimped frill her mother had made in honour of the day. All the curly black hair was gathered into a red net, and a pair of smart little moccasins covered the feet that had not stepped for many a weary day. Jack was not so gay, but had made himself as fine as circumstances would permit. A grey dressing gown with blue cuffs and collar was very becoming to the blonde youth, an immaculate shirt, best studs, sleeve buttons, blue tie, and handkerchief wet with cologne sticking out of the breast pocket gave an air of elegance in spite of the afghan spread over the lower portions of his manly form. The yellow hair was brushed till it shone, and being parted in the middle to hide the black patch made two engaging little quarrels on his forehead. The summer tan had faded from his cheeks, but his eyes were as blue as the wintery sky, and nearly every white tooth was visible as he smiled on his partner in misfortune saying cheerily, I'm ever so glad to see you again. Guess we are over the worst of it now, and can have good times. Won't it be fun to stay here all the while and amuse one another? Yes, indeed. But one day is so short. It will be stupider than ever when I go home tonight, answered Jill, looking about her with longing eyes. But you are not going home tonight. You are to stay ever so long. Didn't Mama tell you? No. Oh, how splendid! Am I really? Where will I sleep? What will Mammy do without me? And Jill almost sat up. She was so delighted with the new surprise. That room in there is all fixed for you. I made Frank tell me so much. Mama said I might tell you, but I didn't think she would be able to hold it in if she saw you first. Your mother is coming too, and we are all going to have larks together till we are well. The splendor of this arrangement took Jill's breath away, and before she got it again in came Frank and Ralph with two closed baskets of treasures to be hung upon the tree. While they wired on the candles the children asked questions, and found out all they wanted to know about the new plans and pleasures. Who fixed all this? Mama thought of it, and Ralph and I did it. He's the man for this sort of thing, you know. He proposed cutting out the arches and sticking on birds and butterflies just where they looked best. I put those canaries over there. They looked so well against the blue. And Frank proudly pointed out some queer orange-colored fowls, looking as if they were having fits in the air, but very effective nonetheless. Your mother said you might call this the bird room. We caught a scarlet tanninger for you to begin with, didn't we, Jack? And Ralph threw a bonbon at Jill, who looked very like a bright little bird in a warm nest. Good for you! Yes, and we are going to keep her in this pretty cage till we can both fly off together. I say, Jill, where shall we be in our classes when we do get back? And Jack's merry face fell at the thought. At the foot, if we don't study and keep up, doctors said I might study sometimes if I'd lie still as long as he thought best. And Molly brought home my books. And Mary says she will come in every day and tell me where the lessons are. I don't mean to fall behind if my backbone is cracked, said Jill, with a decided nod that made several black rings fly out of the net to dance on her forehead. Frank said he'd pull me along in my Latin, but I've been lazy and haven't done a thing. Let's go at it and start fair for New Year, proposed Jack, who did not love study, as the bright girl did, but was ashamed to fall behind her in anything. All right. They've been reviewing, so we can keep up when they begin, if we work next week while the rest have a holiday. Oh, dear, I do miss school dreadfully. And Jill sighed for the old desk every blot and notch of which was dear to her. There come our things. And pretty nice they look too, said Jack. And his mother began to dress the tree, hanging up the gay horns, the gilded nuts, red and yellow apples and oranges, and festooning long strings of popcorn and scarlet cranberries from bow to bow, with the glittering necklaces hung where the light would show their colors best. I never saw such a splendid tree before. I'm glad we could help, though we were ill. Is it all done now, asked Jill, when the last parcel was tied on, and everybody stood back to admire the pretty sight? One thing more. Hand me that box, Frank, and be very careful that you fasten this up firmly, Ralph, answered Mrs. Minot, as she took from its wrappings the wax and figure of a little child. The rosy limbs were very lifelike, so was the smiling face under the locks of shining hair. Both plump arms were outspread as if to scatter blessings over all, and downy wings seemed to flutter from the dimpled shoulders, making an angel of the baby. Is it St. Nichols, asked Jill, who had never seen that famous personage, and knew but little of Christmas festivities? It is the Christ child whose birthday we are celebrating. I got the best I could find, for I like the idea better than old Santa Claus, though we may have him too, said Mama, holding the little image so that both could see it well. It looks like a real baby, and Jack touched the rosy foot with the tip of his finger, as if expecting a crow from the half-open lips. It reminds me of the Saints in the Chapel of the Sacred Heart in Montreal. One little Saint John looked like this. Only he had a lamb instead of wings, said Jill, stroking the flaxen hair, and wishing she dared ask for it to play with. He is the children's Saint to pray to, love, and imitate, for he never forgot them, but blessed and healed and taught them all his life. This is only a poor image of the holiest baby ever born, but I hope it will keep his memory in your minds all day, because this is the day for good resolutions, happy thoughts, and humble prayers, as well as play and gifts, and feasting. While she spoke Mrs. Minot touching the little figure as tenderly as if it were alive, had tied a broad white ribbon around it, and handing it to Ralph, bade him fasten it to the hook above the treetop, where it seemed to float as if the downy wing supported it. Jack and Jill lay silently watching with a sweet sort of soberness in their young faces, and for a moment the room was very still, as all eyes looked up at the blessed child. The sunshine seemed to grow more golden as it flickered on the little head. The flames glanced about the glittering tree as if trying to climb and kiss the baby feet, and without a chime of bells rang sweetly calling people to hear again the lovely story of the life begun on Christmas Day. Only a minute, but it did them good, and presently when the pleasant work was over and the workers gone, the boys to church and mama to see about lunch for the invalids, Jack said gravely to Jill, I think we ought to be extra good, everyone is so kind to us, and we are getting well, and going to have such capital times. Don't see how we can do anything else to show we are grateful. It isn't easy to be good when one is sick, said Jill thoughtfully. I fret dreadfully. I get so tired of being still. I want to scream sometimes, but I don't, because it would scare Mammy, so I cry. Do you cry, Jack? Men never do. I want to tramp round when things bother me, but I can't, so I kick and say, hang it, and when I get very bad I pitch into Frank, and he lets me. I tell you, Jill, he's a good brother, and Jack privately resolved then and there to invite Frank to take it out on him in any form he pleased as soon as health would permit. I rather think we shall grow good in this pretty place, for I don't see how we can be bad if we want to. It is also nice and sort of pious here, said Jill, with her eyes on the angel over the tree. A fellow can be awfully hungry, I know that. I didn't half eat breakfast, I was in such a hurry to see you, and know all about the secrets. Frank kept saying I couldn't guess, that you had come, and I never would be ready till finally I got mad and fired an egg at him, and made no end of a mess. Jack and Jill went off into a gale of laughter at the idea of dignified Frank dodging the egg that smashed on the wall, leaving an indelible mark of Jack's besetting sin, impatience. Just then Mrs. Minow came in well pleased to hear such pleasant sounds, and to see two merry faces, where usually one listless one met her anxious eyes. The new medicine works well, neighbor, she said to Mrs. Peck, who followed with the lunch tray. Indeed it does, mem, I feel as if I'd taken a sup myself, I'm that easy in mind. And she looked so too, for she seemed to have left all her cares in the little house when she locked the door behind her, and now stood smiling with a clean apron on, so fresh and cheerful, that Jill hardly knew her own mother. Things taste better when you have someone to eat with you, observed Jack, as they devoured sandwiches and drank milk out of little mugs with rose buds on them. Don't eat too much, or you won't be ready for the next surprise, said his mother, when the plates were empty and the last drop gone down throats dry with chatter. More surprises? Oh, what fun! cried Jill. And all the rest of the morning, in the intervals of talk and play, they tried to guess what it could be. At two o'clock they found out, for dinner was served in the bird room, and the children reveled in the simple feast prepared for them. The two mothers kept the little bed tables well supplied, and fed their nurslings like maternal birds, while Frank presided over the feast with great dignity, and ate a dinner which would have astonished Mama if she had not been too busy to observe how fast the mince pie vanished. The girls said Christmas was spoiled because of us, but I don't think so, and they won't either when they see this splendid place, and know all about our nice plan, said Jill, luxuriously eating the nut meats Jack picked out for her, as they lay in Eastern style at the festive board. I call this broken bones made easy. I never had a better Christmas. Have a raisin? Here's a good fat one. And Jack made a long arm to Jill's mouth, which began to sing little Jack Horner as an appropriate return. It would have been a lonesome one to all of us, I'm thinking, but for your mother and the boys. My duty and hearty thanks to you, Mem, put in a grateful Mrs. Peck. Bowing over her coffee cup as she had seen ladies bow over their wine glasses at dinner parties in Old England. I rise to propose a health, our mothers, and Frank stood up with a goblet of water, for not even at Christmas time was wine seen on that table. Hip hip hurrah! called Jack, baptizing himself with a good sprinkle, as he waved his glass and drank the toast with a look that made his mother's eyes fill with happy tears. Jill threw her mother a kiss, feeling very grown up and elegant to be dining out in such a style. Then they drank everyone else's health with much merriment, till Frank declared that Jack would float off on the deluge of water he splashed about in his enthusiasm, and Mama proposed a rest after the merry-making. Now the best fun is coming and we have not long to wait, said the boy. When naps and rides about the room had wild away the brief interval between dinner and dusk, for the evening entertainment was to be an early one to suit the invalids' bedtime. I hope the girls will like their things. I help to choose them, and each has a nice present. I don't know mine though, and I'm in a Twitter to see it, said Jill, as they lay waiting for the fun to begin. I do. I chose it, so I know you like one of them, anyway. Have I got more than one? I guess you'll think so when they are handed down. The bell was going all day yesterday, and the girls kept bringing in bundles for you. I see seven now. And Jack rolled his eyes from one mysterious parcel to another, hanging on the laden boughs. I know something too. That square bundle is what you want ever so much. I told Frank, and he got it for his present. It is all red and gold outside, and every sort of color inside. You'll hurrah when you see it. That roundish one is yours, too. I made them, cried Jill, pointing to a flat package tied to the stem of the tree, and a neat little roll in which were the blue mittens that she had knit for him. I can wait, but the boy's eyes shone with eagerness, and he could not resist firing two or three popcorns at it to see whether it was hard or soft. That barking dog is for boo, and the little yellow sled, so Molly can drag him to school. He always tumbles down so when it is slippery, continued Jill, proud of her superior knowledge, as she showed a small spotted animal hanging by its tail, with a red tongue displayed as if about to taste the sweeties in the horn below. Don't talk about sleds for mercy's sake. I never want to see another, and you wouldn't either if you had to lie with a flat iron tied to your ankle as I do, said Jack, with a kick of the well leg and an iraful glance at the weight attached to the other that it might not contract while healing. Well, I think plasters and liniment and rubbing as bad as flat irons any day. I don't believe you have ached half so much as I have, though it sounds worse to break legs and to sprain your back, protested Jill, eager to prove herself the greater sufferer as invalids are apt to be. I guess you wouldn't think so if you'd been pulled round as I was when they set my leg. Caesar, how it did hurt! And Jack squirmed at the recollection of it. You didn't faint away as I did when the doctor was finding out if my vertebrums were hurt, so now, cried Jill, bound to carry out her point, though not at all clear what vertebrae were. Poo, girls always faint, men are braver, and I didn't faint a bit in spite of all that horrid agony. You howled, Frank told me so. Doctor said I was a brave girl, so you needn't brag, for you'll have to go on a crutch for a while. I know that. You may have to use two of them for years, maybe. I heard the doctor tell my mother so. I shall be up and about long before you will, now then. Both children were getting excited, for the various pleasures of the day had been rather too much for them, and there is no knowing, but they would have added the sad surprise of a quarrel to the pleasant ones of the day, if a cheerful whistle had not been heard as Ralph came in to light the candles and give the last artistic touches to the room. Well, young folks, how goes it? Had a merry time so far, he asked, as he fixed the steps and ran up with a lighted match in his hand? Very nice, thank you, answered a prim little voice from the desk below, for only the glow of the fire filled the room just then. Jack said nothing, and two red, silky faces were hidden in the dark, watching candle after candle sputter, brighten and twinkle, till the trembling shadows began to flit away like imps afraid of the light. Now he will see my face, and I know it is cross, thought Jill, as Ralph went round the last circle, leaving another line of sparks among the hemlock boughs. Jack thought the same, and had just cut the frown smooth out of his forehead, when Frank brought a fresh log and a glorious blaze sprung up, filling every corner of the room and dancing over the figures in the long chairs to lead to brighten whether they liked it or not. Presently the bell began to ring, and gave voices to sound below. Then Jill smiled in spite of herself, as Molly Lou's usual cry of, oh dear, where is that child reached her? And Jack could not help keeping time to the march, Ed played, while Frank and Gus marshaled the procession. Ready, cried Mrs. Minot at last, and up came the troop of eager lads and lasses, brave in holiday suits, with faces to match. A unanimous, oh, burst from twenty tongues, as the full splendor of the tree, the room, and its inmates donned upon them. For not only did the pretty Christ-child hover above, but Santa Claus himself stood below, fur clad, white bearded, and powdered with snow from the dredging box. Ralph was a good actor, and when the first raptors were over he distributed the presents with such droll speeches, jokes, and gambles, that the room rang with merriment, and passersby paused to listen, sure that here at least Christmas was merry. It would be impossible to tell about all the gifts or the joy of the receivers, but every one was satisfied, and the king and queen of the revels so overwhelmed with little tokens of goodwill, that their beds looked like booths at a fair. Jack beamed over the handsome poster-stamp book which had long been the desire of his heart, and Jill felt like a millionaire with a silver fruit-knife, a pretty work-basket, and oh, coals of fire on her head, a ring from Jack! A simple little thing enough, with one tiny turquoise, forget me not, but something like a dew-drop fell on it when no one was looking, and she longed to say, I'm sorry I was cross, forgive me, Jack, but it could not be done then, so she turned to admire Mary's bed-shoes, the pots of pansies, hyacinths and geranium, which Gus and his sister sent for her window-garden, Molly's queer Christmas pie, and the zither Ed promised to teach her how to play upon. The tree was soon stripped, and popcorn strewed the floor as the children stood about picking them off the red threads when candy gave out. With an occasional cranberry by way of relish, Boo insisted on trying the new sled at once and enlivened the trip by the squeaking of the spotted dog, the toot of a tin trumpet, and shouts of joy at the splendor of the turnout. The girls all put on their necklaces and danced about like fine ladies at a ball. The boys fell to comparing skates, balls, and cuff buttons on the spot, while the little ones devoted all their energies to eating everything eatable they could lay their hands on. Games were played till nine o'clock, and then the party broke up after they had taken hands round the tree and sung a song written by one whom you all know so faithfully and beautifully does she love and labor for children the world over. The Blessed Day The house seemed very still, with only a light step now and then, the murmur of voices not far away, or the jingle of sleigh bells from without, and the little girl rested easily among the pillows, thinking over the pleasures of the day, too wide awake for sleep. There was no lamp in the chamber, but she could look into the pretty bird room where the fire lights still shone on the flowery walls, deserted trees, and Christ child floating above the green. Jill's eyes wandered there and lingered till they were full of regretful tears, because the sight of the little angel recalled the word spoken when it was hung up, the good resolution she had taken then and how soon it was broken. I said I couldn't be bad in that lovely place, and I was a cross-ungrateful girl after all they've done for Mammy and me. Poor Jack was hurt the worst, and he was brave, though he did scream. I wish I could go and tell him so, and hear him say, All right. Oh, me, I've spoiled the day. A great sob choked more words, and Jill was about to have a comfortable cry when someone entered the other room, and she saw Frank doing something with a long cord, and a thing that looked like a tiny drum. Quiet as a bright-eyed mouse, Jill peeped out wondering what it was, and suspecting mischief, for the boy was laughing to himself as he stretched the cord, and now and then bent over the little object in his hand, touching it with great care. Maybe it's a torpedo to blow up and scare me. Jack likes to play tricks. Well, I'll scream loud when it goes off so he will be satisfied that I'm dreadfully frightened, thought Jill, little dreaming what the last surprise of the day was to be. Presently a voice whispered, I say, are you awake? Yes. Anyone there but you? No. Catch this then, hold it to your ear and see what you'll get. The little drum came flying in and catching it. Jill, with some hesitation, obeyed Frank's order. Judge of her amazement when she caught in broken whispers these touching words. Sorry I was cross. Forgive and forget, start fair tomorrow. All right? Jack. Jill was so delighted with his handsome apology that she could not reply for a moment, then steadied her voice and answered back in her sweetest tone. I'm sorry, too. Never, never will again. Feel much better now. Good night, you dear old thing. Satisfied with the success of his telephone, Frank twitched back the drum and vanished, leaving Jill delay her cheek upon the hand that wore the little ring and fall asleep. Saying to herself, with a farewell glance at the children's saint, dimly seen in the soft gloom, I will not forget. I will be good.