Part 19 (1/2)

Oh, dear mamma! I pray thee, strive To keep thyself, for us alive!

And dear papa, we miss him, too, Almost as much as we do you.

We long to see his dear old face, And fold him in our close embrace.

And Marjorie and Donald, too, We miss you all, but mostly you.

Oh, hurry and grow very strong, That we may have you back ere long.

SERETTA CARLILLIAN.

Miss Zaidee and Miss Helen Ward have decided that they will patronize the ocean hereafter for their daily bath, rather than the tanks in the cheese factory.

A SAD ACCIDENT.

The other day our editor, and one of the valuable contributors to this paper, were seated on two posts, playing the manly game of bean-bag. The bag was coming to the editor, but somehow, when he grabbed for it, it fell on the ground. Our editor immediately sprang after it, but, in doing so, his dress caught on the post, and he hung up there. He was rescued by Miss Le G. He is now doing well.

POOR PATTY.

Little Patty looked very poor indeed. She sat on a rough stone that was used as a door-step, with her head resting on her hand.

Her beautiful golden curls fell way below her waist, over her white neck and shoulders, which her ragged dress did not hide.

Patty had been stolen by gypsies three years before, when she was seven years old. She was very pretty, and because of that the gypsies had stolen her to sell. One night she ran away from the gypsies, and during the day she wandered on till she came to a large town. When it was night again, she was tired and hungry, and she sat down on a door-step and fell fast asleep, and here she was found by Mrs. Bruce, who took her home, thinking she could make her useful in running errands.

So Patty was sitting on the door-step when a rough voice called from inside the house, ”Be off with you, you lazy thing! Didn't I tell you an hour ago to be off for the milk? Be off with you, I say.”

Poor Patty got off rather slowly, for she didn't feel well, and ran down the street and didn't stop till she got to the store.

But coming home she didn't run so fast, for her head ached, and when she got home Nan Bruce scolded her. In a few minutes Patty went up-stairs to her poor garret, where she slept, and threw herself upon the bed, and cried herself to sleep. When she woke up she had a high fever, and in a short time she was delirious.

Nan was much alarmed, and sent for the doctor, who said she had scarlet fever, and he got a good nurse for her. For three months no one expected she would recover, but after that she began to get well.

One morning, when she was nearly well, she said suddenly to the doctor, ”Doctor, it seems to me as if I had seen you before.”

”You have, I guess,” said the doctor, laughing. ”I have been here every day for three months.”

”I don't mean that,” said Patty, ”but I feel as if I had seen you before those people took me off.”

”How old were you when they took you off?” asked the doctor, who knew she had been stolen.

”I think I was seven, for it was on the very day after my birthday, I remember.”

”Why, _I_ had a little girl that was stolen the very day after she was seven years old,” said the doctor. ”She was carried off by gypsies.”

”Why, the gypsies were the very people that carried me off, too.”

”Patty, would you like to go and live with me?” asked the doctor.