Chapter Eighth.
"Home is the sphere of harmony and peace, The spot where angels find a resting place, When bearing blessings, they descend to earth." --MRS. HALE.
CYRIL came running back carrying a covered basket.
"He's gone, girls. He wasn't the Lord at all; only a man; and he didn'tstay long; I guess 'cause he sat down on the tacks and hurted himself.
"Here's our dinner. Mother says we may eat it out here under the treesand it'll be as good as a picnic."
"So it will. Let's see what it is," and Zillah took the basket andlifted the lid. "Oh that's nice! buttered biscuits and cold tongue andcheese and ginger bread--lots of it--and a turnover apiece."
"Isn't our mother good?" cried Ada gratefully. "Did you tell her aboutthe Indian the berries?"
"Yes; and father was there--he just came home--and he says we needn't bea single bit afraid; they don't kill folks now, and they wouldn't dareto hurt us right here in the town; even if they wanted to."
"Baby's been fretting a little; 'cause she's hungry, I guess," saidZillah, putting a bit of gingerbread in the little one's hand.
"Yes; mother said you should give her some cake; and she'll comedirectly and take her awhile. Now let's begin to eat, for I'm as hungryas a big black bear."
"So am I," piped the small voices of Don and Fan. "But father alwaysasks a blessing first."
"Yes," assented Zillah, stopping short in her distribution of the goodthings; "and mother does it when he's away, but--" and she glanced fromone to the other of the childish but grave faces of the little group.
"I'll do it," said Cyril, closing his merry blue eyes and folding hischubby hands. "O Lord, we thank thee for the ginger bread and turnoversand--and all the good things, Amen. Now gi me mine, Zil," opening hiseyes wide and holding out both hands.
"Ladies first, you know," answered the sister, "and we must all spreadour handkerchiefs in our laps to keep the greasy crumbs from ourclothes."
"Oh, yes; I fordot. Help Ada and Fan and yourself, then Don too, and melast 'cause we're the gentlemen."
"No, myself last, because that's the way mother does."
"And mother and father always do everything right," commented Ada,beginning upon her sandwich.
They were rosy, healthy children and their appetites were keen; but theywere not selfish or greedy, and the supply of food was more than amplysufficient for all.
They were never stinted but had been taught that waste was sinful; sothe remains of the meal were put carefully by in the basket, whichZillah then hung up on a branch near at hand.
As she did so the others set up a glad shout, "Mother's coming!" andsprang forward to meet her, while baby held out her hands with a crow ofdelight.
"Well, dears, had you plenty of dinner?" Mrs. Keith asked, taking Annisin her arms and sitting down on the buffalo robe while they groupedthemselves about her.
"Oh yes; yes indeed! some left; and it was very good. Thank you for it,mother."
"You quite deserved it; you have been dear, good children, taking careof yourselves and baby all morning, and not giving any trouble toanybody."
How the young cheeks flushed and the eyes grew bright at these words ofcommendation from those dear lips. How they loved her for them, and whatan increased desire to merit her approbation they felt swelling in theirbreasts.
She could stay with them only a little while but suggested variousamusements, some games they might play, some stories Zillah might relateto the younger ones.
"Are you getting done fast, mother? can we sleep in our own hometo-night?" they asked.
"No, dears; for though the bedroom floors are cleaned there might besome dampness that would injure us. We will go back to the tavern forour supper and to sleep to-night; but to-morrow night we will be in ourown home once more."
"Not the nice home we used to have, though!" sighed Zillah.
"No, daughter; but we must try to be content and thankful; and if weare, we may be as happy in the new home as we were in the old."
With that the now sleeping babe was laid gently down on the robe, alight covering thrown over her, and with a charge to the others to takecare of her, and a caress bestowed upon each, the mother hastened backto the house.
"We're tired running 'bout and picking flowers, Fan and Don and me,"said Cyril; "so won't you please tell us a story now, Zil?"
"Yes; I'll tell you Androcles and the Lion; you always like that."
"Yes; and then tell 'bout the girl that had a silk dress and couldn'trun and play 'cause her shoes pinched," begged Fan.
"Oh look!" exclaimed Ada in an undertone, "see those girls. They haven'tsilk dresses or shoes to pinch their toes. Don't they look queer?"
The subjects of her remarks were two little maids--one about her ownsize, the other a trifle smaller--who were slowly making their waythrough the bushes toward the spot where the Keith children were seated.
They had sallow, sunburnt faces, tawny, yellow locks straggling overtheir shoulders, and their thin, lanky little forms were arrayed incalico dresses faded, worn and skimpy: pantalets of the same materialbut different color, appeared below their skirts. Their feet were bare,and on their heads were sunbonnets of pasteboard covered with stillanother pattern of calico both faded and soiled.
"Shall we ask them to come and join us?" queried Zillah.
"No; they don't look nice; they're dirty," whispered Cyril, with aglance of disgust directed toward the strangers.
"Maybe dey is hungry," suggested Fan, "let's dive 'em some fing out o'de basket."
"Good afternoon, little girls," said Zillah, raising her voice slightlyas they drew near; "will you come and sit with us?"
They shook their heads but came creeping on, each with a finger in hermouth.
"Have you had your dinner?" An affirmative nod.
"I'm going to tell a story to these children, and if you like to comeand listen too, you can. What are your names?"
"Mine's Emmaretta Lightcap, and hers is Minerva Lightcap. She's mysister, she is. Now go on and tell your story. Min, let's set down onthe grass right here."
They listened in open-mouthed wonder till summoned by a shrill voicefrom the direction of the smithy, when they rose and scampered away.
The Keiths were a very domestic family; no place like home to them; andall, from the father down to little Fan, were heartily weary of theunsettled life they had led for some weeks past.
It was therefore with joy they found themselves once more able to sitdown under their own vine and fig tree, (if a rented domicile sounsightly as "the yellow house on the corner" may fitly be compared tonatural objects so full of beauty and grace).
By the evening of the second day the advanced stage of the internalimprovements warranted them in taking possession.
As the shadows grew long the children were called in, the familygathered about a neatly appointed table set out in the centre one of thethree lower rooms; spoken of indifferently as the sitting, ordining-room, since it must answer both purposes.
The meal was enlivened by cheerful chat, in which the children wereallowed to take part; the only restriction being that but one voice wasto be heard at a time; and that not in loud or boisterous tones.
No domestic had been found yet and leaving mother and aunt to chat withthe father, Mildred and the younger girls cleared the table, washed thedishes and made all neat in the kitchen.
This done they returned to the sitting-room. The great family Bible layopen on the table before the father, a pile of hymn-books beside it.These last Rupert took up and distributed; the father read a few versesof Scripture and gave out a hymn. The mother's sweet voice set the tune,the others joined in and a full chorus of praise swelled upon the summerevening air.
It died away, and all knelt while the father offered a short but ferventprayer giving thanks for the mercies of the day, asking for protectionthrough the night, confessing sins and pleading for pardon and eternallife, for all temporal and s
piritual good, through the atoning blood ofChrist.
It was thus each day was begun and ended in this truly Christian family."As for me and my house we will serve the Lord," was the resolution withwhich Mr. and Mrs. Keith had begun their married life.
Each little one came to claim a good-night kiss from father and AuntWealthy, then cheerfully followed their mother up the steep crookedstairway to the large room above.
"Oh, how much nicer it looks!" they cried "Auntie's room too," runningto the open door and peeping in.
Everything was now clean and neat, carpets covered the rough boards ofthe floor, curtains draped the windows and divided the large room intoseveral apartments, in each of which was a neat, white bed.
But little of their heavy furniture had been brought with them from theold home, but its place was partially supplied by turning packing boxesinto chintz-covered and cushioned lounges, and toilet tables, whoseunsightliness was concealed by dainty drapery. Ingenuity and taste haddone wonders in making the house comfortable and attractive at smallexpense.