Donald was the old Scotch gardener who lived at Riverside. He had been there for a great many years, long before Maggie and Bessie were born, long enough, as Maggie said, "to learn to talk American," if he had chosen to do so. But Donald loved the dear old Scotch brogue which reminded him of his fatherland so far away, and was at no pains to drop it; and our little girls liked him none the less that they sometimes found it hard work to understand him. And they had good reason to like him, for he was glad to see them when they came to Riverside, and tried all he could to make their visits pleasant to them. They were in a great hurry to find him this morning, and could scarcely rest till they had permission to do so.
"Well, well," said Grandpapa Duncan, "this is a nice thing. Have you grown so fond of Donald since you have been away that you have hardly time to speak to me before you run away to see him?"
"Oh, no, grandpapa," said Maggie, "we like Donald very much, but you know we like you a great deal more; but you see we are so anxious about the puppy."
"Oh, ho! then it is the puppy you like better than me? I do not see that that mends the matter."
"Now, grandpapa!" said Maggie.
"Couldn't you come with us, grandpapa?" asked Bessie, coaxingly.
"Yes, do," said Maggie, "it's such a nice, pleasant day. It will do you good."
"And it will do us good to have you," said Bessie.
Grandpapa was very much pleased, but though there was a smile on his lips and in his eye, he wrinkled up his brow and pretended to think it was very hard he should be asked to go out. Perhaps he wanted to be coaxed a little more.
"I have no hat or cane here," he said, gruffly.
Away ran Maggie and Bessie into the hall, and presently came back, the one with grandpapa's hat, the other with his cane. Maggie climbed on his chair and put his hat on his head, pretty well down over his nose too, while Bessie placed the cane in his hand.
"Now you are all ready," said Maggie.
"But I have a bone in my knee; how am I to get up?" said grandpapa.
Maggie took hold of one hand and Bessie of the other, and after a great deal of pulling, with some pretended scolding and grumbling from grandpapa, he was upon his feet.
"A nice thing, to be sure," said the old gentleman, "for two little city damsels to come out here to my quiet country home, to pull me out of my comfortable easy-chair and trot me around after puppy dogs and other nonsense!" and he frowned harder than ever, shaking his cane fiercely at the laughing children, who knew very well that this was only fun, and that he was really glad to go with them. They thought it a fine joke, and went skipping merrily along, one on each side of him. They had gone but a few steps from the house, when Bessie stood still, exclaiming, —
"Oh, how pretty, how pretty! Look, grandpapa! look, Maggie!"
It was indeed a pretty sight that she saw. Just in front of them stood two tall trees which grew straight upwards for some distance and then leaned a little towards each other, so that at the top their branches wove themselves together, making an arch. Over each tree ran a Virginia creeper, or grass vine, winding round and round the trunks, spreading over the branches, and when they could find nothing more to cling to, throwing out long sprays and tendrils, which waved gracefully about in the gentle breeze coming up from the river. Although it was only the middle of September, there had been several cool, frosty nights, and the leaves of the vine were already of a bright crimson. The trees were still quite green, and the contrast between their color and the red of the vine was very beautiful.
"Oh, who did it, grandpapa?" said Bessie. "Who painted those leaves? Did Donald?"
"No, darling, no hand of man could paint that. This is the Lord's doing, and it is indeed marvellous in our eyes."
"Do you mean our Father in heaven did it, grandpapa?"
"Yes, dear, it was the great and loving Father, who has not only made his earth to bring forth food and drink for all his creatures, but has also made it so beautiful that it may please and delight our eyes."
"But," said Maggie, in great astonishment, "that vine used to be all green just like the tree. How did it come red?"
"I will tell you," said grandpapa. "Do you know what the sap is?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Duncan looked around him, and then, taking his knife from his pocket, cut a slip from a tall plant which grew near. He pressed it with his thumb and finger, and a small whitish drop oozed slowly out from the end which had been cut.
"See there," he said, "that is the sap or juice of the plant. It is in every tree or bush, and goes running through the trunk, branches, and leaves much as the blood runs through the veins in your body. All through the summer it keeps the branches moist and the leaves fresh and green; but it does not like the cold, and when the frost comes, it runs away from the leaves. Then they begin to turn, some red, some yellow, some brown. Our pretty creepers here are among the first to feel the cold; and they turn sooner than the trees over which they grow. As the weather becomes colder, the sap goes farther and farther away, back through the branches and down through the trunk till it reaches the roots, where it lies snug and close in its winter home under the warm earth. Then the leaves shrivel up and lose their bright colors and fall to the ground. If you break a branch from a tree in winter, it will snap more easily than it will in the summer, because it is dry and brittle from the loss of its sap. All through the cold weather the sap keeps hidden quietly away in the roots; but in the spring when the air grows mild and pleasant, it begins to stir and move upward again. Up, up it goes through the trunk and branches, till, as the weather grows warmer and warmer, the little buds which hold the young leaves and blossoms begin to show themselves, and at last unfold. Then the small tender leaves peep out and gather strength and life from the soft air and bright sunshine and gentle rain, till the trees and bushes are covered with their beautiful green dress and make a pleasant shade for my Maggie and Bessie when they come out to see their old grandpapa at Riverside."
"And give us pretty flowers to smell and look at, and nice fruit to eat," said Bessie.
"Yes, and see how our Father thinks of us and cares for our comfort at every season. If we had not this pleasant shade in the summer, with the soft green for our eyes to rest upon, we could scarcely bear the heat and light of the sun. But in the winter we need all the heat and light we can have; and then, the leaves drop away and let the rays of the sun fall upon the earth to warm and cheer us."
While grandpapa was talking, they had been walking on; and now, as they turned a corner, they saw Donald. He was tying up some dahlias. The little girls ran forward.
"How do you do, Donald?" said Bessie.
"How is the puppy, Donald?" asked Maggie.
"And how's yersel'," said Donald. "Eh, but I'm blithe to see ye aince mair."
"We're well," said Bessie, "and I can yun about now, and my feet don't get so tired as they used to."
"That's gude news," said Donald; "an' noo ye'll be wantin' the wee doggie hame wi' ye. Weel, he's big eneuch; and I think ye may tak' him if yer mither's willin'."
The children understood enough of what Donald was saying to know that he meant they could take the puppy home if their mother would not object; and Maggie hastened to say, "Oh, yes! mamma will let us have him; she quite expects us to take him home, Donald. Could you let us see him now?"
Donald was quite ready, and they all went over to his cottage, where the first thing they saw was Flossy himself, playing on the grass with his two puppy brothers. They all came running up to Donald, as if they were glad to see him, and then went snuffing and smelling about the feet of the children, as if they wanted to find out who these little strangers could be.
In five minutes they were all the best of friends, and Maggie and Bessie were seated upon the grass with the three little dogs jumping, capering, and tumbling about them and over them. Such a frolic as they had, and how the children laughed, and how the puppies barked and yelped and frisked about, while it was hard to say who enjoyed it most, the little girls and the dogs, or grandpapa, Donald,