The Children's Repository—The Little Runaway [pp. 388]

THE LADIES' REPOSITORY.
the seams and hem the skirt; but she made the
waist herself. It was a very pretty dress, and
Alice sewed an edgillng of narrow lace around
the neck and sleeves. When it was quite done
May went down stairs to get some luncheon,
and presently came back with an apple for
Alice, who thanked her and sat down by the
window to read while she was eating it, while
Mlay took her doll and sat down on a little
bench and began to play with it. But she could
not help thinking of the beautiful ribbon upstairs, and the more she thought about it, the
more she wanted it. At last she said:
"Cousin Alice, I think I will go up for that
ribbon now."
" That's righlt," said Alice. " Here is the
key of my trunk. Be careful not to break the
lock. If I were you I would go clown by the
other staircase, and knock at sister Clara's
door to let her see what a brave girl you have
been."
"So I will," said May, and she took the key
and ran upstairs.
In about five minutes backl she came, the
ribbon in one hand and the key in the other,
her face flushed with excitement.
"I've done it, Cousin Alice!" she said. " I'11
never be afraid of the garret again! Sister
Clara says I ought to be very much obliged to
you for curing me of my foolish fears, and so I
am; and for this pretty piece of ribbon, too,"
she added, kissing her cousin.
Alice smiled. "A very great man once said
that'virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful,' she said. "Do you know what that
means?"
"Yes; good people are not afraid of any
thing," said May. "Then I'm sure I'11 try
to be good. Are you never afraid, Cousin
Alice?"
"Not often, dear; but not because I am
good," answered her cousin.
" But you are good, Cousin Alice," said May.
I try to be, darling; but no one in this
world is as good as we all ought to be. And
now bring your doll to me, and I will tie her
sash in a fashionable bow."
After this May became so fond of the garret
that she and Walter used to go and play there
on rainy days; and she persuaded the nurse to
carry her baby-house and Walter's grocerystore up there; and they used to play that the
dolls were "early settlers," and some rag dolls,
which Clara and Alice made them of brown
muslin, and dressed with red and yellow calico
and feathers, were the Indians who attacked
them.
THE LITTLE RUNAWAY.
~ {T was one of the last days of Summer when
a bright little group were making merry on
a hill crowned with trees But in all their
glee there was one who could not join. While
the others spread the feast upon the grass and
l)artook of it with that relish whichl only child hood knows, poor Kate buried her face in her
lap and wept bitterly. Her little friends gath ered round her to know "if she was hurt, or if
any one had treated her unkindly."
"No," she replied, "I have deceived my little
sister Mattie, and I can not be happy. She
begged me to buring her, but I told her to lie
down in her crib, and go to sleep first, and I
would see about it. She believed me, and kiss ing me, said so sweetly, "Good, kind sissy."
While she was sleeping I ran away. But I
can't be happy; for when she finds out I have
deceived her, she will never trust me again."
"I would n't feel so badly, Kate," said a
bright-eyed little maiden. "You did n't promzise
to bring her, so you have n't told a lie."
"No, not with my lips, Susie, but I have in
my heart; for I said, I will see about it, on
purpose to deceive her. Hark, I hear a child
crying," said Kate. The girls looked down
and saw a tiny little thing making her way to ward them, sobbing bitterly. Her curls were
sadly tangled, her white dress soiled and tat tered, and her poor feet scratched and bleeding
from the blackberry vines through which she
had come. It was Mattie who, on rising, had
found that Kate had gone, and set out shoeless
and bareheaded to find her.
"0, you naughty little Mattie!" cried Nellie
Green, "to come away up here without leave.
How will you ever get home? Lookl at your
poor feet! Naulghty little runaway, your mother
ought to whip you!"
" She ought to whip me for deceiving my dear
little sister," cried Kate, folding Mattie closely
in her arms.
"Take me home to mamma, sissy," whispered
Mattie; " I'm so tired."
Poor Kate carried the child home in her
arms, but she did not return. Her pleasure
was gone for that day. Mattie was not well
when she left home, and the fatigue and the
wet feet brought on a fever which threatened
her sweet lile. O, how did her fond sister
repent of her cruelty, and resolve never again
to deceive a little child! The first time Mattie
was able to go out, Kate and her brother car ried her up to the spot where the former wept
for her unkindliness, and where she now rejoiced
I in the love of the dear child again.
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