"I tell you she _will_ come," said her Mother; "and she will be Queen. I will manage it for you."

"Ah, well, Mother," said Fred, looking at his sister, "you don't know Jessie as well as we do. She won't forgive us so easily."

Company now came in, and the children went to their studies. In the afternoon Mrs. Stanley sent a polite invitation to Jessie and her parents to pa.s.s the next Thursday evening at her house; and as they were sitting at the tea-table, the answer was returned.

"There," said Mrs. Stanley, "one point is gained; they will all come."

"They may come," said Frederick, "but she won't be civil to us, I know."

The next day was spent in preparing the crown, throne, and flowers, &c., and Frederick set himself to work to learn by heart some lines his Mother had written for the occasion.

Thursday evening arrived, and the children, though afraid of Jessie's cold looks, were in good spirits. Kate came into the parlour, and found Fred before a large gla.s.s, making his speech, and practising the most graceful bows and gestures.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, "how light and beautiful the room looks! Oh, Fred, I hope we shall have a pleasant time."

The arrival of the company now interrupted them, and when nearly all had come, Mrs. Stanley told her plan with regard to Jessie; and this important matter was just settled, when that young lady and her parents entered.

Jessie, not knowing the honour awaiting her, was very stiff and grave in her salutations. Her large dark eyes were turned away from Fred and Kate, yet an expression about her pretty mouth seemed to say,--

"I am not so very angry as you think."

"She _looks_ like a Queen, does not she?" whispered Fred to his sister.

"She is stiff enough, at any rate," said Kate.

"I wonder whom she will choose for her King?" said Fred.

"I am sure I don't know," answered Kate, looking round. "I suppose the biggest boy."

"Dear me!" said Fred, "I forget that I must go out until it is time for the Address;" and he left the room, to wait his Mother's signal.

Refreshments were now handed round the room, and many a sly glance was cast upon the unconscious Jessie, who was still looking very grave, and almost cross, till, at a hint from his Mother, Fred made his appearance, and with blushing face, but firm voice, p.r.o.nounced the following lines:

"O valiant knights, and ladies fair!

I'm very glad to see you here; Your happy looks and eyes so bright, Have quite inspired me to-night.

Though I'm unused to courtly ways, My choice from you will meet with praise.

Our English land, so brave and free, Where waves the flag of liberty, Can yet, while all our hearts approve, The Scottish stranger fondly love.

(No looks of grave distrust are seen,) Fair Jessie! I proclaim you Queen!

And kneeling lowly at your feet, To be your knight I do entreat.

Now deign to say, what happy one Amongst us all shall share your throne?"

Fred rose from his knees, and awaited Jessie's reply.

Her anger was all gone, but she was so surprised that she looked down, and did not say a word.

"Well," thought Fred, "I knew she would act so. I suppose everybody is laughing at me."

"Jessie," said her Mother, "speak quickly. Whom will you have for King?"

Jessie blushed, and smiled, and whispered in a soft little voice, "Frederick."

Astonished and delighted by this kindness, Fred again knelt down, then rising, he took her little white hand, and led her in triumph, followed by all the company, to the next room, where a splendid throne had been erected. A beautiful crown of flowers was placed on Jessie's head, and gave new beauty to her soft and curling brown hair. Frederick also had a handsome crown. Sceptres were placed in their hands, and then they arranged their court. Kate was made a d.u.c.h.ess, at which she grew quite dignified; there were plenty of Earls and Countesses, and the sweet little maids of honour and the pages stood behind the throne.

They then formed a procession, to return to the parlour, and in an instant a march burst forth from a band of music which had been concealed for the purpose.

At this unexpected event, his Majesty jumped so high that his crown tumbled off, and the Queen was in such a delightful agitation that she could not confine her steps to a walk, and so the King and the Queen, and the d.u.c.h.ess, and all the maids of honour and pages, ran helter-skelter, as fast as they could, and took places for dancing.

Never were merrier hearts or brighter eyes than now leaped and shone in that little party. The Queen was the gayest of all, and the King was nearly out of his wits with joy, to find himself and Jessie once more friends. Little Kate got so tired of being a d.u.c.h.ess that she skipped about like a little fairy; and all the lords and ladies, and maids of honour and pages, were so merry and so full of innocent fun, that they looked a great deal more like little children. And so the happy evening concluded, to the satisfaction of all.

The next morning, Mrs. Stanley asked her children if they had had a pleasant party.

"Oh, yes!" they both answered; "it was perfectly delightful; and Jessie was as pleasant as she could be, and seemed to have forgotten all about the quarrel."

THE TOOTHACHE.

One day little Emily's Grandma said to her, "My dear child, you must go with me to-day to the dentist's, and have some of those teeth pulled out. They are growing so fast and so crooked, that you have not room enough in your mouth for them all."

"Dear Grandma," said the little girl, "will it hurt me _very_ much?"

"Yes, my dear," replied her Grandma; "it will hurt you a great deal, but you must try to bear the pain; it will not be long."

Poor little Emily sighed, and the tears stood in her eyes. She knew that her Grandmother always told her the exact truth. She knew that she would suffer a great deal of pain, because her Grandma had told her so.

It is always the best way to tell a little boy or girl the exact truth.

If Emily's Grandma had said that it would not hurt her to have her teeth pulled out, it would have been very wrong, and Emily would not have believed her another time, when she was to have anything done to her.

This little girl had no Mother. Her Mother was dead, and her Grandma took care of her, and was very kind to her, and Emily loved her dearly, and so she made up her mind to go and have her teeth out, without any trouble, because her Grandma was in bad health; and she knew that if she cried and made a great fuss about it, it would trouble her, and perhaps make her ill.

Now was not this thoughtful and good in a little girl only seven years old? I hope all the little boys and girls that read this will try to be as good.

After dinner, Emily and her Grandma put on their bonnets, and went to the dentist's house. The little girl trembled when the door was opened, but she walked in without saying a word.

They went into the parlour, for there were some persons up stairs in the dentist's room, and they had to wait.

"Grandma," said Emily, "may I look at the books on the table? It will keep me from thinking about my teeth."

Her Grandma said she might, and the little girl was soon quite interested in looking at the pictures in the books, and showing them to her Grandma.

In a little while the servant came to tell her she could go up stairs.

Her heart beat fast, but she went up to her Grandmother, and said, "Dear Grandma, you are not well; you look quite pale to-day. Do not go with me; I will go alone, and I promise you I will be a brave little girl."

She kissed her Grandma, and ran out of the room.

When she entered the room up stairs, she saw two ladies there. She stopped; but the dentist said, "Come in, my little girl, do not be afraid, I will be as gentle as I can."