Harper's Young People, September 7, 1880 Part 5

"How could she think to speak so quickly?" thought Ca.s.sy. "I should have felt so bad to explain about my shoes!"

It was the very next morning that Bessie Merriam came to school with a mysterious bundle under her arm. She took Ca.s.sy by the hand, and led her--where? Why, into the coal closet!

"It's so very private here," explained Bessie. "And, do you know, it's no fun to play romping games in these good boots of mine; so I hunted up an old pair. And, do you think, I stumbled on these old ones too. Would you mind using one pair? You _won't_ think me impertinent, will you?"

Bessie was quite out of breath, and gazing at Ca.s.sy with wide-open, pleading eyes.

Those boots fitted to a T. Ca.s.sy could jump and run to her heart's content. Jump and run she did, for at recess Bessie drew her into the midst of the other girls, and such a game of "I spy" Ca.s.sy had never imagined. n.o.body said a word about her droll gown. "She is _my_ friend,"

Bessie had announced, and that was enough.

Marion Van Dysk gave her two bites of her pickled lime. Lillie Downs "remembered" her, and did not shrink from partaking of Ca.s.sy's corn-ball. School was a very different affair to-day.

Ca.s.sy fairly danced on her way home. She determined to think up a secret that very night that she might confide it to Bessie. In the mean time she bought a bit of card-board and some green, red, and brown worsted.

All that afternoon and all that evening she worked. The next day Bessie found in her arithmetic a remarkable book-mark, with a red house and a green and brown tree, while underneath were the touching words, "Friendship's Offering."

"Please to keep it for ever and ever," begged Ca.s.sy, earnestly, "to make you remember how I thank you."

"Thank me for what?" asked Bessie, in surprise.

Ca.s.sy stared at her.

"Don't you know what a beautiful thing it was in you to ask me to play 'jack-stones'? Don't you know you're a--a--an angel?"

"It never says once in the Bible that angels play 'jack-stones,'" cried Bessie, in great glee; "so don't talk nonsense, Ca.s.sy. But I think the book-mark's lovely."

So the two little girls laughed as if there was a joke somewhere, though neither knew exactly what it was, only Ca.s.sy Deane was too happy to be sober, and it's my belief Bessie Merriam was just as happy as she. What do you think?

WHAT THE BABIES SAID.

BY MRS. E. T. CORBETT.

Lillie Benson and Daisy Brooks sat on the floor in the nursery, and looked at each other, while their delighted mammas looked at them, and each mother thought her own baby the finest. Lillie was ten months old, and Daisy was just twelve. Lillie had great blue eyes, soft flaxen hair curling in little rings all over her head, and pink cheeks. Daisy had brown eyes, golden-brown hair cut straight across her forehead (_banged_, people call it), and two lovely dimples. One wore a white dress all tucks and embroidery, with a blue sash; the other a white dress all ruffles and puffs, with a pink sash.

Daisy looked at Lillie, and said, "Goo-goo!"

"The dear little thing!" said Daisy's mamma. "She's so delighted to see Lillie to-day."

Then Lillie looked at Daisy, and said, "Goo-goo-goo!"

"Oh, the darling!" exclaimed Lillie's mamma. "She's _so_ fond of Daisy, you know, that she is trying to talk."

Presently Daisy turned her back to Lillie, and crept into the corner of the room. "Now just see that! she wants Lillie to follow her. Isn't it cunning?" said Lillie's mamma.

"Of course she does, and see Lillie trying to do it. Isn't she sweet?"

answered Daisy's mother, while Lillie crept to the opposite side of the room.

But after a while the two babies were sleepy; so their mammas laid them down side by side in the wide crib, and then went down stairs to lunch.

"We'll leave the door open, so we can hear them if they cry; but I know they won't wake for a couple of hours," said one of the mothers; and the other one said, "Oh no; of course not; they'll sleep soundly, the darlings!"

But in a very few moments something strange happened--something _very_ strange indeed. The babies opened their eyes, looked around the room, and then at each other.

"We're alone at last, and I'm so glad," said Daisy.

"Yes," said Lillie. "Now we can have a nice little chat, I hope. Isn't it dreadful to be a baby, Daisy?"

"Of course it is," sighed Daisy; "yet I suppose it is very ungrateful to say so, when every one loves us so much, and is so kind to us."

"That's the worst of it; I don't want every one to love _me_, because they will kiss me, and I hate to be kissed so much," objected Lillie.

"Ugh! how horrid some people's kisses are!"

"It's enough to make any baby cross, _I_ think," added Daisy. "I wish no one but mamma would ever kiss me, and even she does too much of it when I'm sleepy."

"Why, Daisy Brooks! what a thing to say about your own dear mamma!"

exclaimed Lillie, looking shocked.

"I don't mean to say anything unkind of mamma, for I love her dearly, you know, Lillie; but it _is_ hard to be kissed and kissed when you're hungry or sleepy, or both, and sometimes I have to cry," answered Daisy, quickly.

"Well, I'll tell you something else I hate," continued Lillie, "and that is to have people who don't know anything about it try to amuse me. They have such a dreadful way of rushing at you head-first, and shrieking, 'Chee! _chee!_ CHEE!' or 'Choo! _choo!_ CHOO!' that you don't know what may be coming next."

"Yes, or else they poke a finger in your neck, and expect you to laugh at the fun. I do laugh sometimes at the absurdity of their behavior,"

said Daisy, scornfully.

"Yes, and then they always think you're delighted, and go on until you are disgusted, and have to scream, don't they?" asked Lillie.

"Of course. Oh, babies have a great deal to suffer, there's no doubt of _that_," said Daisy.

"And there's another horrid thing," Lillie added, after thinking a moment. "I mean the habit people have of talking to babies about their family affairs in public. My mamma don't do that; but I heard Aunt Sarah talking to her baby in the cars the other day, loud enough for every one to hear, and she said: 'Poor grandpa! grandpa's gone away: don't Minnie feel sorry? She can't play with grandpa's watch now. Grandpa wants Minnie to come and see him, and ride on the pony, and Minnie must have her new sacque made, so she can go. Will Minnie send a kiss to grandpa?'

and ever so much more. I know poor Minnie was ashamed, for she fidgeted all the time; but what could she do?"

"Well, mamma would talk to me just the same way this morning, as we came here, and I did my best to stop her, too, but it wasn't any use," said Daisy, looking indignant. "She had to tell everybody that we were going to see 'dear little Lillie Benson,' over and over again."

"But I'll tell you what makes me most angry, after all, Daisy," said her cousin, suddenly. "Does your mamma ever give you a chicken bone to suck?"

"Yes, she does, and oh!--I know what you're going to say," interrupted Daisy. "That's another of our trials. You get a nice bone, and you begin to enjoy yourself, when all at once your nurse or your mother fancies you've found a sc.r.a.p of meat on the bone, and then one or the other just makes a fish-hook of her finger, and pokes it down your throat before you know where you are!"

"That's it exactly," exclaimed Lillie. "I go through just such an experience nearly every day, and it's too aggravating."

"Hark!" said Daisy, listening; "I hear old Dinah coming up stairs now, and I suppose we'll have to listen to her baby-talk for a half-hour at least. I know what I'll do; I'll make faces and scream."

"And get a dose of medicine, maybe, as I did one day," answered Lillie.

"I tried that plan to stop an old lady from saying, 'Ittie peshous!

ittie peshous! tiss ou auntie!' and mamma got so frightened she sent for the doctor, and he gave me a horrid powder. I can taste it yet."

"That was too bad," said Daisy, compa.s.sionately; "but hush, dear, for Dinah is at the door."