Bertie was so astonished he could not speak.

"It's your little sister, my son, and if papa consents, you may call her Violetta in memory of these pretty flowers."

"Oh, mamma! I'm so glad! I love babies so dearly. Isn't she a darling?"

At this moment Mrs. Dodge came into the room. "Well, Bertie," she began, "your mamma has a pretty surprise for you. What do you think Winnie will say?"

"She'll think it's a doll, mamma. Oh, may I bring her in?"

He ran to the door, and met papa with Winnie in his arms.

Papa looked very smiling and happy as he walked to the side of the bed.

Baby had fallen asleep now, and was so quiet Bertie could hardly believe she was alive.

Winnie's eyes grew larger and larger as she gazed, until at last she gave a spring almost out of her papa's arms upon the bed.

Mamma screamed, and Mrs. Dodge came forward quickly; but papa had caught her again and held her firm.

"It's your little sister," he explained; "but you must go now and stay with Nellie, for Nancy wants the new baby to sleep."

"Let me take it a minute. Please, mamma, I wont break it. I wont, certain," pleaded the child.

"Some day," said mamma, and then she turned so pale that Mrs. Dodge hurried them all out of the chamber before mamma could ask whether the little spring flower should be named Violetta.

With his treasures safe in the house, Mr. Curtis, with his gardener, went to work with renewed zeal to beautify his grounds. His heart was full of grat.i.tude to the kind Being who had given him so many blessings; and his delight was to be of benefit to those around him.

No one really in need was ever turned from his door; while many, like Susy Hunt and Edgar Torrey, received the benefit of his donations.

"The Squire's son will be the father over again," said Mr. Taylor to the clergyman, "there's nothing pleases him so much, as to give him a chance to make somebody happy."

"Yes," was the reply, "and I never see him without recalling to remembrance the words: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"

The fall previous all the rubbish about the place had been cleared away, the pieces of board and shavings, except what had been given to the poor, being carried to the shed adjoining the barn. The turf around the house had of course been a good deal cut up by the teams, and Mr. Curtis resolved to have new sods immediately laid down, not only on the terraces, but as far as the turf was broken.

This was quite a curiosity to Bertie, who followed Albert to the field where the men were cutting out pieces of turf about one foot in width and two feet in length; then back again to see that they were laid smoothly upon the well prepared ground, and nicely hammered down with large flat, wooden mallets.

With his exercise in the open air, Albert had lost something of his flesh; but his spirits were never better; and in his management of men, Mr. Curtis thought he had never known his equal. His gay good humor seemed to inspire all in his employ with new life, while his firm, clear manner of giving orders convinced them that he intended to be obeyed.

It was often a severe trial to Bertie to leave for school just as the men were engaged in some job which he particularly wished to see; but mamma explained that if he wished to be a useful man he must lay in a stock of knowledge while he was young.

One morning Mr. Curtis proposed to go to a nursery of trees near the city for the purchase of currant, gooseberry, blackberry and other bushes, together with a variety of ornamental shrubs.

Bertie's curiosity was greatly excited to visit such a place, which he fancied must be almost like Eden.

His mamma shook her head, saying:

"You have had a long vacation, my dear. School is the first duty now."

The little fellow's lip quivered; and for a moment he looked quite vexed; but while his parents with anxious hearts waited to see whether he would submit cheerfully to parental authority, his brow cleared, and he exclaimed:

"You always do know best, mamma. I should admire to go; but I dare say papa will take me some time."

Papa smiled, but said nothing. Mamma drew her son to her side, and kissed her approval of his conduct.

In five minutes he was trotting Whitefoot out of the yard, his smiles as bright, and his brow serene as ever.

CHAPTER XIII.

BERTIE'S REWARD.

At noon, Bertie was obliged to hurry through his lunch, in order to be back in time for the afternoon session, which commenced at one o'clock, so that it often happened that he did not see his father till night.

When he came into the house, he was eager to tell his mamma that at last he had attained the honor of being at the head of the arithmetic cla.s.s. He supposed of course his father had gone to the city, and did not therefore enquire for him. He only said:

"Please, mamma, don't tell papa when he comes home, because I want to tell him myself."

"No, I promise," answered mamma, smiling.

At the supper-table, his delight was great, therefore, when he found that instead of going to the city, Mr. Curtis had been to the town where the quarry of granite was.

"I concluded," said papa, with a curious smile, "that it would be a pleasure to go to the nursery in company with a boy who put aside his own wishes in order to please his mother. Dodge must get his ground ready, and wait till Sat.u.r.day for his trees."

"Oh, papa! papa!!" shouted the boy, dancing with delight. "I mean to be always good, you and mamma are so very kind."

This was Thursday; on Sat.u.r.day morning at an early hour the Squire and his son were on their way to the nursery.

They drove Duke in the carriage to the depot station, and left him in a stable close by, so that he would be ready as soon as they returned from the city. Bertie was in the gayest of spirits. He sat by the window, watching the farmers at work in the fields, ploughing, harrowing, or making furrows for putting the seed into their land. He enjoyed all this vastly, because he understood how it ought to be done.

He was so absorbed in watching these operations as they whizzed along past one farm and then another, that he quite forgot the pleasant errand on which he was bound. But suddenly he was recalled to the present by a plaintive voice asking,--"Have a paper, sir? This morning's paper, sir, and all the telegram news."

Mr. Curtis was absorbed in thought, and took no notice of the newsboy; but there was something in the sad voice, which awoke Bertie's quick sympathies.

"Papa! papa!" he repeated, pulling his father's arm, "won't you please buy a paper? See how many the boy has left."

"I've too much on my mind to care for newspapers, dear."

Bertie raised himself till he could speak in his father's ear.

"Please, papa, see how sick he looks. Can't you buy one?"

The gentleman opened his pocket-book, and gave his son fifty cents.

"Use it as you please," he said, softly.