Minnie puts her hand across it; but the fireman quickly pulls aside the table-cloth, runs his finger down the stream, and her lap is a pool of ink.
"Won't you catch it?" says an old woman, with a delighted chuckle; and the pygmy under the table crawls out, grinning with pleasure.
"We can take the horse to the water, if we cannot make him drink," shouts a newsboy in her ear; and with a great deal of tugging and thumping she feels herself driven closer to her books. But idle hands make an idle brain, and the pages seem only a blank.
"How long wilt thou sleep, lazy one?" cries a grave face in spectacles and lawns. With a sleepy feeling she turns her head away from his stern gaze, only to meet the sterner faces of the judges, who are examining her untidy copy-book.
"Not a single line written this morning. What have you to say in self-defence?"
"Please, sir, the acrobat had my pen balanced on his nose," said Minnie feebly.
"An excuse is worse than a lie," answered one of the judges; "for an excuse is a lie guarded." The book closed with a bang, and the judge marched off to consider the verdict.
At this moment Minnie started up in a fright, to find the dinner-bell ringing, the inkstand upset in her hurry, and no lessons done.
And now she had to go and wash her hands and make herself tidy for dinner. What would mother say when she came to know how little Minnie had done that morning?
A ray of sunshine shone through the window of the second house also, and softly kissed the rosy cheek of little Winnie, as she lay sleeping in her cot.
"Get up," said a small voice in her ear: "it is your turn to arrange the schoolroom to-day."
Winnie jumped out of bed, and was dressed in less than no time; for the good fairy had set her train to wait on her. Her shoes were placed ready to her feet, her strings did not get into knots, and even her hair was not tangled.
Running down into the schoolroom, and tying on a large apron, she set to work to polish the mahogany cupboard with so good a will that Jack Tar, who stood above it, fairly clapped his hands with glee. Two neat little maids swept the floor, and two little men with their tiny brushes took up the dust. The highest shelf in the book-case was soon mounted by one of the pygmies, whilst two on the next shelf dusted and handed him the books. The carpet-cleaner stretched and nailed down a corner of the drugget which had been kicked up. The coachman, footman, butler, and buttons stood in readiness to carry out the orders of Policeman X. It was a good thing Policeman X was there; for quite a crowd had collected to see the work so briskly going on. The three little pygmies climbed up the rail of a chair to beeswax and polish it. A bookbinder sat cross-legged on one corner, arranging the loose leaves of a book; and a fat cobbler sat balanced on the rail below, singing, "A stitch in time saves nine."
The work was soon done; and when Aunt Susan came into the room she praised little Winnie, and said the white hen had laid her an egg for breakfast.
Now, perhaps, you would like to know the names of the two fairies who attended the little girls. The good fairy was called Work-with-a-will; the bad fairy, No-will-to-work.
HELPING MOTHER
It was a lovely summer's day; there was a hot sun with a nice breeze, and Mrs. Jones, who had a heavy wash on her hands, was delighted.
"I shall get all dried off before night," she exclaimed, as she hung out the snowy sheets, and the children's shirts and pinafores, which latter looked rather like doll's clothes as they hung on the line beside father's great stockings.
Tommy and Jeannie, of course, were there too, and very busy, as they had taken it into their heads to plant all the clothes-pegs they could lay hands upon, under the idea that they would soon grow into cabbages!
"Dear! dear!" exclaimed poor Mrs. Jones, when she turned round, having filled the line, and found out what her children had been after. "Did any one ever see such children? I must get them away from the wash somehow. See now, duckies, I'll get you some cherries off the tree, and you'll play pretty on the bench, and let mother get on with her work, won't you?"
"Yes, mother, we'll be ever so good," declared Tommy; and Jeannie, who could not speak plainly, echoed solemnly, "Never good!"
So Mrs. Jones fetched a ladder and gathered some juicy cherries, and for a long time the children played with them happily enough. First of all Tommy kept a jeweller's shop on the old bench, and sold cherry earrings to Jeannie, who tried to fasten the double cherries on to her fat little ears. Then she kept shop, and sold cherry boots to Tommy, and then they got the doll's perambulator and wheeled the cherries to market, and then Tommy said it was time to eat the cherries, and he divided them fairly, and soon ate his share up. But what a mess he did make of his hands and face! they were stained black with cherry juice. "Never mind!" said Tommy calmly, "I'll soon wipe it all off;" and catching hold of a sheet which hung on the line near, he first rubbed himself quite clean, and then gave Jeannie's hands a rub, too, on this most convenient towel. Not till he had finished, and the sheet was again flapping in the wind, did thoughtless Tommy reflect on the mischief he had done. But when he saw the purple stains on the clean sheet he began to cry bitterly, and running to his mother, he pulled her round and showed her the cherry-stained sheet.
"Look, mother! look! But I didn't mean to," he sobbed.
"Mothers," says an old writer, "should be all patience," and certainly Mrs. Jones needed patience that morning. She did look vexed at first, as she saw her work undone, but the next minute she was able to say gently, "What a pity, Tommy! You should think a bit, and then you would be able to help me when I'm busy," and that was all. She took the sheet down and put it once more in the wash-tub.
Meanwhile Tommy sat quietly sucking his thumb. He always sucked his thumb when he thought, and just now he had a great deal to think of. Mother had said he might help her! That was quite a new idea to Tommy, and he sucked his thumb harder than ever.
That summer's day marked a turning point in Tommy's life. He then determined—little fellow as he was—to help mother, and it was wonderful how soon the thoughtless little pickle grew into a helpful boy.
"It seems as if he couldn't do enough for me," Mrs. Jones would declare, with honest pride in her tone; "and Jeannie, she copies Tommy, and between them both they'll fetch and carry and run for me till I seem as if I had nothing left for me to do. I'm a lucky woman, that I am!"
Little Sister
Sleep, little sister, a sweet, sweet sleep,
Dear little sister with eyes so blue,
Daylight is dying
And shadows are lying,
Lying where lately the sunbeams grew!
The pretty birds, little one, cease to sing,
Cosy are they in the mossy nest,
Birdies like we, dear,
Weary must be, dear,
Glad in the gloaming to get to rest!
The flowers are closing their petals fair,
Closing them up till the dawn of day,
Then in their beauty,
Doing their duty,
All will uncurtain their colours gay!
Sleep, little sister, a sweet, sweet sleep,
Dear little sister with eyes so blue,
Sleep without fear, love,
Sissie is near, love,
She will keep watch, and be guard over you!