The Turn of the Tide. Eleanor H. Porter

anythin’ I ever see,” murmured Arabella. “Seems ‘most as though ’twas heaven.” And Mrs. Kendall, who heard the words, reproached herself because for four long weeks she had stood jealous guard over this “heaven” and refused to “divvy up” its enjoyment. The next moment she shuddered and unconsciously drew Margaret close to her side. Patty had said:

      “Gee whiz, Mag, ain’t you lucky? Wis’t I was a lost an’ founded!”

      The house with its great stone lions was hailed with an awed “oh-h!” of delight, as were the wide lawns and brilliant flower-beds. Inside the house the children blinked in amazement at the lace-hung windows, and gold-framed pictures; and Clarabella, balancing herself on her toes, looked fearfully at the woven pinks and roses at her feet and demanded: “Don’t walkin’ on ’em hurt ’em?

      “Seems so ‘twould,” she added, her eyes distrustfully bent on Margaret who had laughed, and by way of proving the carpet’s durability, was dancing up and down upon it.

      The matter of choosing beds in the wide, airy chambers was a momentous one. In the boys’ room, to be sure, it was a simple matter, for there were only two beds, and Tom settled the question at once by unceremoniously throwing Peter on to one of them, and pommeling him with the pillow until he howled for mercy.

      The girls had two rooms opening out of each other, and in each room were two dainty white beds. Here the matter of choosing was only settled amicably at last by a rigid system of “counting out” by “Eeny, meany, miny, mo”; and even this was not accomplished without much shouting and laughter, and not a few angry words.

      Margaret was distressed. For a time she was silent; then she threw herself into the discussion with all the ardor of one who would bring peace at any cost; and it was by her suggestion that the “Eeny, meany, miny, mo,” finally won the day. In her own room that night, as she went to bed, she apologized to her mother.

      “I’m sorry they was so rude, mother. I had forgot they was quite so noisy,” she confessed anxiously. “But I’ll tell ’em to-morrow to be more quiet. Maybe they didn’t know that little ladies and little gentlemen don’t act like that.”