Harper's Young People, August 10, 1880 Part 6

Although he lived and finally recovered, a terrible and unsightly scar remained, and was only hidden from sight by the thick curls that Pickle had so despised.

The brave soldier had adopted the child he had saved, and it was to provide means for her support that he now taught German in Miss Prim's school.

You may be sure that after this the little Elsie and her adopted father had no firmer friend nor warmer admirer than Pickle, who through them had learned a lesson that she never forgot.

A GAME FOR A RAINY DAY.

While every hour of a pleasant day by the sea-side or in the country provides its own amus.e.m.e.nts, on a rainy day young people are apt to find that time hangs heavily on their hands. So it happened, one day last month, that the girls staying at Sandy Beach Hotel visited Miss Walker in her room, and begged her to suggest some new game for them.

After a moment's hesitation she said that she had thought of a game that might be new to them, though she had played it when a child.

"I shall want one a.s.sistant," she said, "to whom the secret of the game will be intrusted; the others will have to try to guess it. I shall remain in the room with the rest of you, and my a.s.sistant will go out.

During her absence I shall place my hand on the shoulder of some girl, or upon the piano, or on my own shoulder, and when she returns she shall tell you who has been touched."

n.o.body seemed to know anything about the game, so Miss Walker chose Alice Milne as her a.s.sistant.

The girl went out of the room. Miss Walker laid her hand on the girl nearest to her, who happened to be Clara Lane, and on Alice's return asked, "On whom did my hand rest?"

Alice at once replied, "On Clara."

"Right," was the answer.

But the girls, thinking they had found out the game, said, "You touch the girl nearest to you, Miss Walker."

"I certainly did on this occasion; but the position of the girl has nothing to do with the secret."

"I think I know it, but I shall see," said Bertha, and several girls expressed a similar opinion.

Again Alice went out. Miss Walker touched Nellie, and Alice, as promptly as before, named the right person on her return to the room.

The girls were at fault, and again failed to discover any look or gesture that could help them.

"You must have heard, Alice," said one.

"But Miss Walker did not speak."

"She placed her hand in a particular position."

"Alice may come in blindfolded if you like," said Miss Walker.

One of the girls went out with Alice, brought her in backward, so that she might not see Miss Walker, held her hands, and did everything but find out the secret.

At last they said: "We give it up, Miss Walker. Do tell us the secret."

"Well," said Miss Walker, "if you really can not guess it, I will tell you. As a rule, I placed my hand on the shoulder of the girl who spoke last before Alice quitted the room. But sometimes there were two or three speakers, and in this case I touched my own shoulders. If no one spoke, I touched the piano. Any article that may be agreed upon will do equally well. With this simple understanding, and an intelligent a.s.sistant, a mistake is almost impossible."

SEA-BREEZES.

LETTER No. 3 FROM BESSIE MAYNARD TO HER DOLL.

OLD ORCHARD BEACH, _August, 1880_.

Dear Child,--It is two weeks, I do declare, since I have written you one word, and what a state you must be in all this time; for I remember perfectly well how suddenly my letter closed, just at the very smilax of that awful adventure. But really, Clytie, so many things have happened since, and every minute is so full of pleasures or catastrophes, that, as I look back, that one seems almost insignificant.

I suppose you are surprised at my using such large words; but here we meet a great many "people of culture," as they are called, and they are all very busy "improving their minds"; and you know Solomon says, "Never do till to-morrow what you can put off to-day," so I am trying to improve mine too, while I am under their confluence.

Papa bought me a little pocket dictionary, and I look out all sorts of words in it, and that is how I get so many big ones that perhaps _you_ don't quite apprehend, but I must use them inasmuch.

Excuse me for scratching out inasmuch, I _should_ have said nevertheless. When I am not quite sure of a word, I look it out, for I always have my little dictionary close at hand, and that is a great conveyance, you know. I am trying to get over my babyish way of talking, or at least of writing, and hope I may exceed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOW WE LOOKED AFTER _IT_ HAPPENED.]

But to go back to my story: where was I? We were crossing over the board to the island, weren't we? Well, Fan was going ahead, wheeling Jane in her carriage, then Dora and Snip, and me on behind with Moppet in my arms. Randolph stood in the water, and watched his chance till we were all fairly on the board, and then he gave a regular Indian war-whoop, and threw himself right across the middle of the board, and shook it with all his might, so that it jiggled awfully right up and down. Before we had time to scream or to paralize our danger, over we all went, pell-mell, helter-skelter, higgledy-piggledy, down, down, down into the foaming water! What do you think of that, Clytie? Every single one of us--dogs, Jane, carriage, and all! 'Twas worse, a thousand-fole, than when we lost Lucille. Fan sat right down on the pebbles at the bottom of the sea, and gave herself up for lost. I threw Moppet as far as I could on to the beach, while Dora screamed: "You hateful boy! Go at him, Snip!

bite him! throw him over! eat him up!" And Snip _did_ go at him, as if he would "tear him limb from limb," as the story-books say.

Randolph looked scared out of his wits, and without waiting to help one of us, he turned and ran as fast as he could go, and never stopped till he was safe back at the hotel, the mean coward that he is! We heard afterward how he ran into the house with such a roar as to frighten every one there, crying out at the top of his lungs, "They've set the dog on me, and he'll kill me!" Did you ever know such a horrid boy?

As for the rest of us, we scrambled out as best we could, by the help of the other boys, for, to tell the truth--and you know, my Clytie, I always do that, and never mean even to inangerrate when I am telling a story--the water was not very deep where we fell, not more than half way up to our knees, and we often go in wading there; but it _seems_ a good deal deeper when you are dumped right down into it without any warning.

Now wasn't this a teragical end of our picnic on the island?

A few days later Mrs. Peyton and her party left Old Orchard. Where they have gone I do not know, but we children believe they went away on Randolph's account. We _tried_ to treat him politely, but how _could_ we? I don't think any one would blame us for turning our backs on him whenever he appeared, and only saying good-morning to him in a lofty way over our shoulders. He neverdently didn't like it, and proberly _coaxed_ his mother to go away.

Whatever _other_ people can do, I am very sure _I_ shall never be able to love my emernies. _Love_ Randolph Peyton! Just think of it, Clytie, I'd be _ashamed_ to love such a mean boy even if I could, emerny or not.

I truly hope we may never see him again.

Such heaps and heaps of things as I shall have to tell you, dear Clytemnestra, when I get home! No letter would ever be long enough to get them all in. There will be enough to talk about all next winter.

You don't know anything about the clam-bake we had last week, nor how Dora and I got lost one day in a cave--a real _b.o.n.e.r fidy_ cave, as papa says, dark and dreadful, where smugglers used to hide their things.

I'm saving up lots of things to tell you some day, and if your eyes don't open wider than ever before, it will only be because something is the matter with your wires. Such fun as I am having this summer! And, oh, Clytie! what do you think? Mamma is busy packing the trunk, and we are going away from here to-morrow. We are going with some other people to Mount Desert, 'way round the coast of Maine, ever so much farther than this.

It is lovely everywhere here, and I don't believe Maine is half so crooked and queer along the sh.o.r.e as it looks in the geography, and I'm going to tell the girls so when I get back to school.

There's no sense in working so hard on our maps if 'tisn't true, and Maine was the very hardest State of all to draw, for 'twas so awful jiggly along the edge. Really, it isn't so a bit, for I have seen it, and ought to know.

Here come Snip and Moppet, and I hear Fan and Dora rushing up stairs for me, so I will bid you good-by, or "orevo," as I heard Dr. Le Baron say to Miss Farrar when he went away last night--that is, it _sounded_ like orevo. I don't know as I spell it right, for I can not find it anywhere in my dictionary.

With ever so much love to the rest of the dolls, as well as to yourself, dear Clytie, good-night.

Your little mamma, BESSIE MAYNARD.