Frankie had been watching the drops as they fell from the lower edge of the curtain upon the leather boot; at last he said, "It seems as if we were in the ark."

"Why?" asked his mother, with a smile.

"Because--because it seems as if we were out in the rain, with waters all around us; but we are safe in here, and nothing can harm us."

"What shall we do now?" asked Willie. "Play school again? I call it real good fun."

"Let us sing," said Nelly.

"So we will; so we will!" and they began the sweet hymn commencing,--

"Jesus, thou heavenly stranger, Who dwelt in mortal clay!

Thy cradle was a manger, Thy softest bed was hay."

"O, mamma!" cried Frankie, when they had finished the tune, "can I read the pretty verses on my handkerchief?"

"Yes, dear, I should like to hear them," said mamma.

This was Sally's birthday present, which he had kept nicely folded in his coat pocket. I have already described to you the picture, which was of a little boy calling his sister to take a ride. Frankie could read now quite well, though he was obliged to p.r.o.nounce the words slowly, once in a while stopping to spell one to himself. He began,--

"The coach is ready, sister; run, And put your gloves and bonnet on; It is about a week ago Our parents promised us, you know, If we were good, that we, to-day, Should have the coach and ride away.

Our cousins, too, are all at home; How glad they'll be to see us come!

And they, such lovely girls and boys, Will have so many pretty toys!

And we shall have the sweetest ride, Through trees along the river side!

Come, sister; come, make no delay!

'Tis time for us to start away.

What ails you, Mary? ar'n't you well?

What makes you cry so? sister, tell!"

"Harry, I can't; don't ask me why; And yet I must--_I've told a lie_!

And here shut up I'm doomed to stay, And mourn and weep the livelong day.

I shall not dare my face to show, Nor join the children's plays, you know; They'll see my tears, and then inquire What I have done--and call me _liar_.

And, Harry, I'm afraid that you And Harriet will hate me too.

But what is worst of all, mamma Don't speak to me, nor does papa; Not once upon me have they smiled, Since I was such a wicked child.

O, it will break my heart, I'm sure!

I never told a lie before, And never, _never_ will again, If I their pardon can obtain.

Go--it is time that you were gone, And leave me here to cry alone."

Nelly sighed two or three times while her little cousin was reading; and when he had finished, she said, "I'm glad I don't tell lies now. I didn't use to know how wicked it was."

Mrs. Gray bent down and kissed her little niece, and then said, "I am sure, my dear, G.o.d will forgive the past, if you ask him, for the sake of his dear Son."

"I wonder whether her mother let her go to ride," said Frankie, fixing his eyes on the picture. "I should think she would, when the little girl was so sorry."

As no one replied to his remark, he said, presently, "Here is another pretty piece; may I read this too, mamma?"

"Perhaps Nelly would like to read," said the lady.

"O, yes, aunty," said the little girl; "may I, Frankie?"

He pa.s.sed her the handkerchief, though he did not do it very cheerfully.

"Thank you," said Nelly. "You can look over with me, if you want to."

Then she began to read the verses that were underneath the picture of the little girls and the poor beggar:--

"Look, sister, see how rich I be!

Six cents mamma has given me, Because it is a holiday; And now I'm going off to play.

But let me think: what shall I buy?

A cake--or else some pretty toy!

I've wanted long a Jumping Jack.

Well, that I'll buy, and not a cake.

But stop, dear sister; who is this?

A poor old man!--how lame he is!

How lean he looks, and ragged too!-- Give him some dinner, sister, do.

Now he will have to go away, And beg his dinner every day.

I wish I had a dollar now; Six cents will buy some dinner, though; And as he travels on the road, Some biscuits would taste very good; And he shall have them--so I'll play Without a Jumping Jack to-day."

CHAPTER V.

NELLY'S PRESENT.

When Mrs. Gray reached home, she found a letter there for her from her brother. She read it through, looking very much pleased; and then she told Nelly that her father and mother sent their love to her, and hoped she would come home very soon.

It was now more than a year since she came to live with her aunt; and she was delighted with the idea of the visit. "But I shall come right back again with you, shan't I?" and she gazed earnestly in her aunt's face.

"We will see about that," said the lady, "when we get there." And then she added, "I couldn't spare you at all, my little girl. I hope to have you with me for a good many years yet."

Nelly was so much pleased at this, that she jumped up and kissed her aunt, and exclaimed, "I love you dearly, dearly!"

Two days later, when they were a little rested from their journey, the same carriage and horses came to the door, and they drove away toward Nelly's old home. It was only twelve miles, and the horses trotted over the road very quickly, so that in less than two hours they came in sight of the pleasant orchards and gardens surrounding Mr. Nelson's house.

Then Mrs. Gray, after a smiling glance at her husband, said, "Nelly, your mamma has a pretty present for you at home."

"What is it, aunty? I can't think of any thing that I want."

"It is the best present you ever had, my dear," said the lady, smiling.

"O, I guess it's a watch," cried Frankie, in an animated tone.

"No, it's a little brother," said aunty; "a darling baby brother."

Nelly opened wide her bright blue eyes, and then gave a scream of joy.

It was well they were just riding up the avenue to the house, or they might not have been able to keep the excited child in the carriage.

"Where's my baby? Where's my brother?" she called out, running up the steps and into the front door.

Fortunately her father was in the library. He came quickly to the door to welcome Nelly and his friends.