VIOLETS AND VIOLETTA.
When spring came, Bertie went one morning into his mamma's chamber
with a bunch of the earliest violets.
The curtains were dropped before the large bay window, and though it
was not cold a pleasant fire crackled in the open grate.
"Why, mamma, are you sick?" Bertie asked, running quickly to the side
of the bed.
"Have you seen papa?" said mamma, smiling. "He went out to tell you I
have a present for you."
"No, mamma, I didn't see him."
She turned down the sheet and showed him a tiny baby lying by her
side, trying to suck its own little rosy finger.
Bertie was so astonished he could not speak.
"It's your little sister, my son, and if papa consents, you may call
her Violetta in memory of these pretty flowers."
"Oh, mamma! I'm so glad! I love babies so dearly. Isn't she a
darling?"
At this moment Mrs. Dodge came into the room. "Well, Bertie," she
began, "your mamma has a pretty surprise for you. What do you think
Winnie will say?"
"She'll think it's a doll, mamma. Oh, may I bring her in?"
He ran to the door, and met papa with Winnie in his arms.
Papa looked very smiling and happy as he walked to the side of the
bed.
Baby had fallen asleep now, and was so quiet Bertie could hardly
believe she was alive.
Winnie's eyes grew larger and larger as she gazed, until at last she
gave a spring almost out of her papa's arms upon the bed.
Mamma screamed, and Mrs. Dodge came forward quickly; but papa had
caught her again and held her firm.
"It's your little sister," he explained; "but you must go now and
stay with Nellie, for Nancy wants the new baby to sleep."
"Let me take it a minute. Please, mamma, I wont break it. I wont,
certain," pleaded the child.
"Some day," said mamma, and then she turned so pale that Mrs. Dodge
hurried them all out of the chamber before mamma could ask whether the
little spring flower should be named Violetta.
With his treasures safe in the house, Mr. Curtis, with his gardener,
went to work with renewed zeal to beautify his grounds. His heart was
full of gratitude to the kind Being who had given him so many
blessings; and his delight was to be of benefit to those around him.
No one really in need was ever turned from his door; while many, like
Susy Hunt and Edgar Torrey, received the benefit of his donations.
"The Squire's son will be the father over again," said Mr. Taylor to
the clergyman, "there's nothing pleases him so much, as to give him a
chance to make somebody happy."
"Yes," was the reply, "and I never see him without recalling to
remembrance the words: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"
The fall previous all the rubbish about the place had been cleared
away, the pieces of board and shavings, except what had been given to
the poor, being carried to the shed adjoining the barn. The turf
around the house had of course been a good deal cut up by the teams,
and Mr. Curtis resolved to have new sods immediately laid down, not
only on the terraces, but as far as the turf was broken.
This was quite a curiosity to Bertie, who followed Albert to the field
where the men were cutting out pieces of turf about one foot in width
and two feet in length; then back again to see that they were laid
smoothly upon the well prepared ground, and nicely hammered down with
large flat, wooden mallets.
With his exercise in the open air, Albert had lost something of his
flesh; but his spirits were never better; and in his management of
men, Mr. Curtis thought he had never known his equal. His gay good
humor seemed to inspire all in his employ with new life, while his
firm, clear manner of giving orders convinced them that he intended to
be obeyed.
It was often a severe trial to Bertie to leave for school just as the
men were engaged in some job which he particularly wished to see; but
mamma explained that if he wished to be a useful man he must lay in a
stock of knowledge while he was young.
One morning Mr. Curtis proposed to go to a nursery of trees near the
city for the purchase of currant, gooseberry, blackberry and other
bushes, together with a variety of ornamental shrubs.
Bertie's curiosity was greatly excited to visit such a place, which he
fancied must be almost like Eden.
His mamma shook her head, saying:
"You have had a long vacation, my dear. School is the first duty now."
The little fellow's lip quivered; and for a moment he looked quite
vexed; but while his parents with anxious hearts waited to see
whether he would submit cheerfully to parental authority, his brow
cleared, and he exclaimed:
"You always do know best, mamma. I should admire to go; but I dare say
papa will take me some time."
Papa smiled, but said nothing. Mamma drew her son to her side, and
kissed her approval of his conduct.
In five minutes he was trotting Whitefoot out of the yard, his smiles
as bright, and his brow serene as ever.