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wealthy and to have servants will be poor and have no servants. If you are prepared for that condition, and have gentle and well-trained hearts for it, you will be just as happy in it as you would be in any other.

“ But the musicians are taking their places and tuning their instruments, and to-day is to be a day of sport for you. I have told you a story, and I have preached you a sermon; and I will keep you no longer. Return to your games, my dear young friends, but remember what I have said as if they were the last words a loving old father were to speak to you, – that there is no true happiness in life without love and work.”

7. T. Trowbridge.

LITTLE DILLY; OR, THE USE OF TEARS.

II.

EDDY'S pony was black and shiny.

As soon as Dilly awoke in the morning, and knew that he had come, she was in such a hurry to see him that she ran right out in her nightgown.

“O, the grass will wet us !” said Ten Toes.
“ No matter for that,” said Dilly.
“ But the stones will hurt us,” said Ten Toes.
“No matter for that,” said Dilly, and away she ran.

But her mother called, and said, “ Dilly, you must come back and be dressed."

“Shall we cry?” asked Blue Eyes. “Yes, cry,” said Dilly. “O, how I want to see Eddy's pony ! For she forgot what she told her mother the night before. And she forgot many times. She ought to have tried harder to remember.

I have told you about one of her crying days. I don't believe you will want to hear about another. That was when she was six years old. I will now tell you what happened one day when she was seven.

You must know that Dilly had two servants which I have not mentioned. I mean her Two Ears. It was their business to let her know when she was spoken to, and also when the birds were singing, and when the school-bell rang

One day, when she was seven years old, she had leave to eat raspberries in the garden. The bushes were so high that they almost covered her over. She was sitting behind them. Nimble Fingers were resting, for they had been working hard among the bushes. Rosy Lips were quite purple. They were resting too.

But Two Ears were listening. That was their business. Two ladies were standing on the other side of the bushes, and talking quite loud. These two

ladies were making a visit at the house, and were just the kind of ladies that Dilly liked. They often told her stories or took her to walk with them. She was glad when they came to see her mother.

Now they were talking to each other, and Dilly could not help hearing, for they spoke loud, and her Two Ears were very good ones. “What a pleasant place this is !” said one lady.

Yes,” said the other. “It would be the very nicest place I know of, to visit, if it were not for one thing."

“Do you mean the way Dilly behaves ?” said the first lady.

“ Yes. She frets so much, and teases and cries so often, and is such a meddler, that she really spoils my visit. I don't think I shall stay long."

“ It will be too bad,” said the first lady, “to leave such a nice place, such beautiful flowers, and such a pleasant lady as Dilly's mother.”

“I know it,” said the other. “ But I had rather go to Mrs. Lane's. She has no fruit, and hardly any flowers, and her house is not so pleasant; but her little girl has a bright, smiling face, and knows how to behave well. She is a very gentle little girl.”

The two ladies then passed along to another row of bushes.

0, how bad Dilly did feel, to think that such a little girl as herself should spoil the visit of the two kind ladies ! She kept thinking about it all the rest of the day. Many times she said to herself, “ They will go away because I am cross."

At night, when her mother took her in her arms, after the baby was asleep, she said, “Dilly, you have been quite a good girl to-day."

“I am going to be good all the time,” said Dilly.
“I hope so," said her mother, “but I 'm afraid you ’ll forget.”

Dilly kept very still. She was thinking how often she had forgotten. At last she said, “ How can I keep from crying when I feel so badly ?”

“Shut your eyes up tight,” said her mother, “ to keep the tears from coming, and your lips too, that the cross words may be kept back. Then think of something pretty and pleasant. Let me see. What is there pretty and pleasant? A humming-bird. You can think of a humming-bird, dipping his bill into the flowers, or anything else. What else can you think of that is pretty and pleasant ?

“Of a squirrel,” said Dilly.

“O yes,” said her mother, — “of a squirrel with his bushy tail curled over his back, cracking nuts. What else ?"

“Of a gold-fish.”

“So you could. A gold-fish swimming about in his glass globe. Now, when you feel the tears or cross words coming, shut your eyes and your lips close, and hurry as fast as you can to think of 'humming-bird, squirrel, goldfish.'"

I mean to,” said Dilly. But she had so long been used to crying and to speaking cross that it was not easy leaving off. She tried very hard, though, to be good. She wanted so much to be like Mrs. Lane's little girl, who had a bright, smiling face, like

a sunny summer's day. Should you like to know how much better she grew before she was eight years old ? I will tell you.

One pleasant day in June, when the roses were in bloom, Eddy mounted his pony and set off for a ride. Dilly stood still and watched him till he was out of sight.

“O, how I wish I had a pony!” said she.
“I will make you a pony,” said Ben.
Ben was a big boy who worked for her father.
“You can't make a pony,” said Dilly.

“ See now," said Ben. Then he sawed a piece from an old beam which was lying there, and put two round sticks of wood in each end for legs.

“ There's a pony for you,” said he, — “safe one, too. He won't kick.” “But he has no head,” says Dilly. Then Ben nailed a stick at one end, and put a man's hat upon it.

“ That will do for a head," said he. “There's a pony in the almanac with a man's head.”

“ Is there ?” said Dilly ; "well, he has no tail.”

Ben looked all around, in the barn, and the woodhouse, and in the workshop, -and came out at last with a paint-brush.

“Some ponies have bobtails,” said he, and he nailed it on behind ; "and here's a real bridle, and you shall have my whip. There now! Isn't this a nice pony?”

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Dilly's mother lent her a dark skirt for a riding-dress, and one of Eddy's caps.

“What is all this hanging about us?” said Ten Toes. “We can't go."

once ?"

So Dilly held up her riding-dress in front, and said she thought it would be proper for her to have a feather in her cap.

Ben said he had heard that hens' feathers were all the fashion, and he stuck one in front, and turned the visor round behind so as to shade the back of her neck.

While she was riding, the funny man came along, and looked over the fence.

“ Is that you ?” said he. “O yes. That's you, – is n't it? So't is, I declare. What are you doing?”

He had quite a long nose, and he pinched the end of it, to keep from laughing, and puffed his cheeks out.

“Well, I declare !” said he, “ that is a nice pony. I wish you'd let my little girl play in your yard. Her name begins with M. Why can't you let her ride on your pony

“ I will,” said Dilly.

" I'll go after her,” said the funny man. “Do you want she should bring anything?"

“Yes, sir,” said Dilly.
“What shall she bring ?”
“I don't know,” said Dilly. “I don't know what she's got.”

Then the funny man scratched his head and twinkled his eyes. “I'll go see," said he.

So Dilly kept on riding and watching for the little girl whose name began with M.

But presently her mother came to the window, and said, “ Dilly, it is time for you to come in now and do your sewing.”

Now Dilly had just started for Boston, — playing so, you know, — to see the boys sail boats on the Frog Pond, and was thinking what she should buy, and what she should say to her Boston cousin, and she thought it was too bad to be called in.

“What shall we do ?” said Blue Eyes ; " shall we cry ?"

“No, no,” said Dilly. Humming-bird, squirrel,' — don't cry. “Humming-bird, squirrel, gold-fish.' Have the tears gone back?"

“No, they are wetting us all over, and they want to come out. What shall we do?"

“Shut up tight,” said Dilly. “Don't let them out." “What shall we do ?” said Rosy Lips ; "shall we pout?” “ No. Don't pout. Try to smile if you can.” “ But we can't. There are some cross words behind us. They want to

get out.”

“Hush, hush,” said Dilly. “Keep close, - 'Humming-bird, squirrel, gold-fish.'”

And the cross words did not get out; and when the tears found that Blue Eyes would not let them run past, they went back where they belonged.

Then Dilly sat down by her mother to sew. Her cap and riding-dress were on the sofa, and while Nimble Fingers were drawing out the thread Blue Eyes got a chance to look that way. She was thinking what a nice time she should have riding after tea, when the sun was gone from the yard.

While Dilly was sitting with her mother, there came in a boy with a glass dish. He wanted to get a little jelly for Alice. Alice was a sick girl who lived near.

After the boy was gone, Dilly asked her mother what made Alice sick so long

“ Poor Alice !” said her mother; “ I pity her.” “Because she is sick ?” asked Dilly.

Partly because she is sick,” said her mother, “and partly for other reasons. You will know, when I have told you about her, why I pity her.

“Once Alice had a little sister named Mabel. That was her name, but almost everybody called her Bluebird ; for even when she was a very little child, hardly more than a baby, she liked blue better than any other color. She liked blue flowers, blue ribbons, blue dresses, the blue water, and she had blue eyes. So she was called Bluebird, or, sometimes, Birdie. Alice took all the care of her, for their father and mother were dead. Alice was grown up.

“ Little Bluebird had a sweet, lovely face, with soft curls and laughing eyes. Her neck was white as snow, with pretty, round shoulders. She had nice fat arms to throw round anybody's neck when she wanted to give anybody a good hug and kiss, and that was pretty often.

“ And one day Alice put upon her little sister her blue muslin frock that had lace round the neck, and short sleeves with ruffles to them, and her best shoes, and her straw hat with a wreath around the crown of it, and took her out to walk.

“ It was after tea, in the cool of the day.

“ Little Bluebird ran on ahead to catch a butterfly. She took off her hat to catch him with, as she had seen boys do. Perhaps, if she had not taken off her hat, the sad thing which I am going to tell would not have happened.

“She ran a great way. So far that she could not hear Alice calling her to come back. So Alice sat down upon the grass to wait for her.

“But she did not come. The sun set, and she did not come. Then Alice went to look for her."

“Did she find her ?” asked Dilly, “I will tell you,” said her mother.

“ Alice walked on and on. She looked among the bushes and behind the rocks, calling, all the time, ‘Little Bluebird,” • Birdie,'* Birdie.'

“But all the sound she heard was the dismal noise of the frogs. At last she came to the pond, and floating there was the straw hat of little Bluebird with the wreath about the crown.

“ Alice screamed so loud that a man heard her, who was going home with a load of hay. He jumped into the pond, but he could not find little Mabel."

“ And did n't they ever find her ?” asked Dilly, almost crying. “I will tell you,” said her mother.

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