Part 4 (1/2)

Mrs. Mills thought f.a.n.n.y was too young; but she could not resist her pleading tones, and so Frank raked the embers of the fire together, picked up some chips, and heaped them on, and then filled the little tea kettle, which was soon singing away merrily.

f.a.n.n.y took down a cup and saucer from the dresser, and drawing a little stand near the bed, she placed them on it, then measured out her tea into an earthern tea pot, as she had often seen her grandmother do; and the water boiled, Frank poured it on for her, and they put it down to draw, as Mrs. Mills told them.

After a while, Jack came whistling into the house; but when he saw Frank and f.a.n.n.y there, he looked as though he wished he was any where else.

f.a.n.n.y went towards him, holding one little finger up.

”Hush, Jack, don't whistle so,” she said, ”your mother has the sick head ache, and we are making a cup of tea to cure her.”

Jack looked at her in surprise. He did not know what to make of it all. There was the mark on her face, where the stone which he had thrown that noon, had grazed the skin, and yet, here she was, making tea for his sick mother.

He did not say a word, but turned and went out of the house. Frank thought he saw something very like tears glistening in his eyes, and he acknowledged to himself, that his grandmother was right, when she had told him that he would be happier if he returned good for evil.

Mrs. Mills sat up, and drank her tea, and then f.a.n.n.y washed the cup and saucer, and she felt very large to think she was able to do it. Then she put her bonnet on, and Mrs. Mills told her that she should tell her grandmother what a kind little girl she was, and how much good she had done her, and f.a.n.n.y and Frank both felt very happy.

As they went out of the door, f.a.n.n.y bent her head down to smell of a beautiful damask rose that was blooming on a bush near the house. They walked along without seeing Jack, but he saw them. When they were half way through the orchard, he came running up behind them, and reaching out his hand, and touching f.a.n.n.y, said:

”Won't you take this rose.” She turned around, and saw that he had picked for her the very rose that she had admired so much, and as she took it from him, he whispered,

”I hope you don't think that I meant to hurt you this noon, when I threw that stone--I wouldn't hurt you for the world. I only threw it to make you look around.”

f.a.n.n.y answered him very pleasantly, and then he bade them good night, and went back to his mother.

When the children reached home, they told their grandmother what a happy time they had had, and f.a.n.n.y said if she was a king, and another king wanted to fight with her, she would send some eggs and tea, and see if that wouldn't make them good, just like it made Jack Mills.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER VI.

THE NUTTING EXPEDITION.

One Sat.u.r.day afternoon, Frank and his sister went into the woods, provided with little baskets and bags, to gather walnuts. As they left the village, they were regaled with a song from the Golden Crested Wren, who was perched on the branch of an apple tree, and seemed to be lamenting the rapid approach of winter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GOLDEN CRESTED WREN.]

Scarcely had they got into the thick part of the woods, where the walnuts were abundant, when they found that they were not the only nut gatherers on the ground. The grey squirrels were on the alert, scampering about upon the tall trees, where they were quite at home. Their nests are in hollow trees, high up from the ground, and here they delight to store up the sweet nuts, and acorns, for their subsistence. Frank told f.a.n.n.y some wonderful stories about these squirrels, which he had heard from Farmer Baldwin: how some thousands of them once set out in company, on an expedition from New York State, to Vermont, and swam across the Hudson; and how they were so fatigued and wet, after crossing the river, that many of those who escaped drowning, were killed with clubs by the people, on the eastern sh.o.r.e of the river.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GREY SQUIRREL.]

f.a.n.n.y also knew some stories about the grey squirrel, which she had read in a book, which she got out of the school library--how they sometimes crossed rivers on chips, and bits of bark, using their large bushy tails for sails. Frank doubted this; but they both agreed to believe what is really the fact, that these animals sometimes migrate from one part of the country to another, in very large numbers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE YELLOW THROAT.]

When the children had half filled their baskets and bags, they sat down under the shade of a walnut tree, to eat some dinner, which they had brought along in one of the baskets. During this frugal repast they were entertained with the song of a Yellow Throat, one of the very sweetest of all the wild birds of the forest. He loves the thickest shades of the wood; and although the children were perfectly charmed with his music, he was so shy, that they could not get a single look at him.

After dinner, the children strolling further into the wood, came suddenly upon a party of their school fellows, who were in the woods for a day's sport. They were sitting under a tree, telling stories to each other.