Part 5 (2/2)
”The picnic as far as the pie, and other eating were concerned, was perfect, but Nan was a trial sometimes,” said Ethelwyn, sighing deeply; ”she said she couldn't possibly go home, 'count of her mother having a headache as usual, and she was as cross as a bear. I had my hands pretty full with that child. She does not give in to me like my sister--I will say that.” And Ethelwyn again sighed deeply, as she walked into the house for her bath and toilet.
When the train stopped, and Elizabeth appeared, Ethelwyn and she rushed at each other, and both began to talk at once.
”I've a secret that will make your eyes stick out--then I made a pie--”
”I saw the doctor that makes bone people. There was one for a sign at the pittalhos where we were--”
”Hospital, child.”
”And he was undressed, even from out of his skin; you could, see clear through him. I was scared, because I thought that the doctor would make mother and me into one, but he was nice and said he'd cure d.i.c.k. We saw his bed all white--”
”Wait till you know the secret. I saved you a piece of pie--Nan wanted it--”
”I rode up in an alligator--”
”Elevator.”
”And a man at the pittalhos said, 'where did I get those dimple holes,'
and I said prob'ly they wasn't fat enough to stuff it all--he laughed though at that.”
And so they chattered on until they reached home.
_CHAPTER VIII_ _The Reward_
To help the sorry, hungry poor, Or ease a burdened one, Begins to bring the answer, when We pray ”Thy Kingdom come.”
It all unfolded like a beautiful flower, and every one was interested in getting ready the Children's Rest and Summer Training School, which was to be the name of the cottage. In the midst of it all, Mrs. Stevens one day received from j.a.pan a long and happy letter from Dorothy and her husband; and a mysterious box, which was smuggled away for the birthday, came for the children.
d.i.c.k was getting better every minute, and was looking forward with eager delight to the time when he should go to the Rest, well and strong.
In the Rayburn sitting-room one evening, the children were looking over a portfolio of photographs.
Aunty Stevens as usual was knitting, and laughing with them over the pictures.
Ethelwyn was showing them, for she had seen them before.
”This is Beethoven,” she announced, holding up one of the great masters.
”He isn't very pretty, but I s'pose he made up in being clever.”
”He is sort of kind-looking,” said Beth, who always liked to say something nice about every one.
”He is better than pretty,” said Ethelwyn. ”He's a very good musician.
He can play the piano.”
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