The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens Part 13

EDWARD (_amazed_). You, my mother! You!!

MRS. L. Yes, my son. This was only a plot to try you. Your heart has proved good and n.o.ble! and I am the happiest of mothers.

MORRIS (_rushing to Mary's arms_). And I--am I your son still?

MARY (_kissing him_). Yes, my boy; my own boy!

MORRIS. Oh, be joyful! how happy I am!

EDWARD. But, Morris, don't you want to stay with me?

MORRIS. No! no! I have been too much afraid already that I should never see my dear father again. What a good hug I mean to give him!

EDWARD (_giving_ MORRIS _the watch, &c._) Here, take all these things--now I give them to you.

MORRIS. Oh no, you must keep them.

EDWARD. But what about that cross old landlord?

MORRIS (_laughing_). You are right. Give them to me.

MARY. Is it for the rent? Why, big Peter will dance a jig on the kitchen table for joy.

MR. SHERWOOD. Good mothers, love your children with all your hearts, but do not spoil them. Remember, it is education and pious training which develop in their hearts the seeds of good or evil; and you, Edward, do not forget the lesson you have received, of "DOING UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD THAT OTHERS SHOULD DO UNTO YOU."

THE LITTLE PLAY MITTENS.

THE play was finished amidst a tremendous clapping of hands, and the curtain fell.

Then the company began to talk just as fast as they could. They were astonished at seeing the play so well acted, and laughed over and over again when they recalled the comical little gardener and waiter, who wore such funny dresses, and knew their parts so perfectly, and acted with such serious faces. Minnie came in, too, for her share of praise,--indeed, every one was excellent; and when the children made their appearance a few minutes afterward--still dressed as they were in the play--they were received with more clapping of hands, and this time with plenty of kisses too.

After that, some ice cream and cake were handed round; and then the company went home perfectly delighted, resolving in their own minds to get up something themselves in behalf of the soldiers. So certain is it, that one good action will prompt another.

The Little Mother hastily counted over the nice warm mittens with their thumbs and fingers sticking out in every direction, while the children looked on with breathless interest.

"Fifty-seven pairs," said the Little Mother.

"Fifty-seven pairs!" echoed the children, with a shout that made the windows rattle. "Oh, goody! goody! goody! how glad we are!" and they danced round the pile which lay on the floor in perfect ecstasies.

"How glad brother George will be!" said Willie.

"Oh, if he could only have been here to-night," said Clara, and her loving eyes filled with tears.

The Little Mother's lip trembled. She knew that her soldier boy, sooner or later, must know what a battle was; and a prayer rose in her heart that a Protecting Power would guard him from harm, and return him safe to her loving arms.

The children kissed her softly, and tenderly, and went quietly off to bed, almost forgetting that Santa Claus was to come that very night, and fill their stockings. But _he_ did not forget; for when the bright morning sun of the clear, cold Christmas day, peeped in at the nursery windows, he certainly must have thought that Santa Claus had considered these children as pinks and patterns of perfection; for there were no less than three new dolls; a grocery store for them to shop at; two elegant workboxes with "Anna" engraved on the lid of one, and "Clara" on the other; a beautiful writing desk, filled with nice pens, ink, and paper, for Johnny; a mahogany tool chest, completely filled, for Harry; an entire set of Cousin Alice's excellent and interesting books, for Bennie and Willie; a most charming little book, called "Our Little Girls," for Lillie; and two others by the same author, who is a minister's daughter, as good as she is lovely, for Minnie. These were called "A Little Leaven," and "Two Little Heaps;" and, let me tell you, Minnie considers them the best books that ever were written; while little f.a.n.n.y's favorite was, and is, the "R. R. B's." It is the history of a dear little Robin Redbreast and his family; and f.a.n.n.y says it is a "darling book."

The dear absent soldier brother was not forgotten. On the table were two packages directed to him. One of these contained a dozen fine hem-st.i.tched pocket handkerchiefs, with the initials of his name beautifully worked in a corner of each. This had been done by Anna, who was very skilful in such dainty arts. The other package consisted of a complete set of d.i.c.kens's works, in strong, plain, but very neat bindings.

"Oh," cried Harry. "George will stand on his head for joy, when he gets these; he will be so tickled! The very books he was longing to own!"

"How _can_ he stand on his head?" asked Bennie.

"This way," answered Harry, and going up to the side of the room, he suddenly lifted his feet in the air, resting them against the wall, and stared at Bennie with his face upside down, and the top of his head on the carpet.

The children laughed heartily, and as a matter of course, all the little brothers began to practise standing on their heads, till they nearly got fits of apoplexy, with the blood rushing the wrong way.

After they had returned from church that morning, every one of them wrote to George a company letter, wishing him a merry Christmas, telling him all the wonderful news about the little play; and informing him of the quant.i.ty of mittens which were coming. They had now finished eighteen pairs, to add to their fifty-seven, which their friends had given them. These seventy-five pairs, were to be sent away the next morning; but George's presents were to be carefully kept until his happy return home; for he could not put all those precious books in his knapsack; and as he might move from one place to another very often, the less he had to carry in marching, the better.

The smaller children felt an almost reverential affection for their soldier brother, who had gone away to fight for his country. They regarded his letters as perfect wonders, with Camp Ellsworth printed on the outside of them, and such superb capital D's and G's inside. The little ones did not know _how_ he could make such splendid letters, sitting in a tent, with the paper on his knee, ready to drop it at a moment's warning, and flash fire and shot out of his gun, at the enemy.

They were quite sure he would be a General in a very short time, and Johnny had serious thoughts of writing to the good President Lincoln, and asking him to make George one without waiting any longer. Indeed, he _did_ write: but his mother thought it best not to send it: though I was sure the President would have liked it very much; for he is such a great-hearted, good man, such a pure patriot; and I happen to know that he loves children dearly. Here is Johnny's letter. It is a simple, funny little epistle, full of trust and faith.

"PRESIDENT LINCOLN:

"_My Dear Friend_,--Do you know my big brother George? He is such a good boy! He never teazes us, or the cat, or anybody. Mary O'Reilly (that's our kitten) always rubs her coat against his legs when he comes home; so you see that is a sign that he is never cruel to animals. He once tried to teach a crab at Long Branch to dance the polka, but he didn't hurt it; no, indeed!

"Please, my dear friend, to make him a General, with a long sword, saddle, bridle, and a whack fol de rol; though I don't know what that is--I heard a soldier singing it--and I will come and hug and kiss you as hard as a rock.

"Clara and Anna say, they will hug and kiss you too, if you will make George a General; only you must promise not to scratch their faces with your beard, as papa sometimes does--just for fun, you know. Besides which, my dear friend, they will give you a mitten apiece. How would you like that?

They make lots for the soldiers, out of skeins of long yarn; mamma says you are a famous fellow for spinning splendid yarns yourself. Ours is dark blue; but mamma says, yours are all the colors of the rainbow, and a great deal of black besides; and everybody is delighted with them, and all the soldiers love you, and I am your

"affectionate friend, "JOHNNY."

I should not be in the least surprised, if the good President should answer this letter after he sees it here; and send his answer to Mr.

Appleton for Johnny. If he does, I will tell you all about it, as sure as my name is Aunt f.a.n.n.y. Meanwhile, you must know that the fifty-seven "little play mittens," as the children called them, and the eighteen pairs, which they had made this time, and which they called their "two story mittens," have gone to the brave soldiers. Do tell me, my little darlings, how many have been sent altogether; now that we have come to the

END OF THE FOURTH BOOK.

_D. Appleton & Company's Juvenile Works._

HAPPY CHILD'S LIBRARY. 18 vols, in case.

HARRY'S VACATION; or, PHILOSOPHY AT HOME. By WM. C. RICHARDS, A. M.

HAVEN'S (Alice B., or Cousin Alice) CONTENTMENT BETTER THAN WEALTH.

16mo, ill.u.s.trated.