NELLY'S HOSPITAL

Nelly sat beside her mother picking lint; but while her fingers flew,

her eyes often looked wistfully out into the meadow, golden with

buttercups, and bright with sunshine. Presently she said, rather

bashfully, but very earnestly, "Mamma, I want to tell you a little plan

I've made, if you'll please not laugh."

"I think I can safely promise that, my dear," said her mother, putting

down her work that she might listen quite respectfully.

Nelly looked pleased, and went on confidingly,

"Since brother Will came home with his lame foot, and I've helped you

tend him, I've heard a great deal about hospitals, and liked it very

much. To-day I said I wanted to go and be a nurse, like Aunt Mercy; but

Will laughed, and told me I'd better begin by nursing sick birds and

butterflies and pussies before I tried to take care of men. I did not

like to be made fun of, but I've been thinking that it would be very

pleasant to have a little hospital all my own, and be a nurse in it,

because, if I took pains, so many pretty creatures might be made well,

perhaps. Could I, mamma?"

Her mother wanted to smile at the idea, but did not, for Nelly looked

up with her heart and eyes so full of tender compassion, both for the

unknown men for whom her little hands had done their best, and for the

smaller sufferers nearer home, that she stroked the shining head, and

answered readily: "Yes, Nelly, it will be a proper charity for such a

young Samaritan, and you may learn much if you are in earnest. You

must study how to feed and nurse your little patients, else your pity

will do no good, and your hospital become a prison. I will help you,

and Tony shall be your surgeon."

"O mamma, how good you always are to me! Indeed, I am in truly earnest;

I will learn, I will be kind, and may I go now and begin?"

"You may, but tell me first where will you have your hospital?"

"In my room, mamma; it is so snug and sunny, and I never should forget

it there," said Nelly.

"You must not forget it anywhere. I think that plan will not do. How

would you like to find caterpillars walking in your bed, to hear sick

pussies mewing in the night, to have beetles clinging to your clothes,

or see mice, bugs, and birds tumbling downstairs whenever the door was

open?" said her mother.

Nelly laughed at that thought a minute, then clapped her hands, and

cried: "Let us have the old summer-house! My doves only use the upper

part, and it would be so like Frank in the storybook. Please say yes

again, mamma."

Her mother did say yes, and, snatching up her hat, Nelly ran to find

Tony, the gardener's son, a pleasant lad of twelve, who was Nelly's

favorite playmate. Tony pronounced the plan a "jolly" one, and, leaving

his work, followed his young mistress to the summer-house, for she

could not wait one minute.

"What must we do first?" she asked, as they stood looking in at the

dusty room, full of garden tools, bags of seeds, old flower-pots, and

watering-cans.

"Clear out the rubbish, miss," answered Tony.

"Here it goes, then," and Nelly began bundling everything out in such

haste that she broke two flower-pots, scattered all the squash-seeds,

and brought a pile of rakes and hoes clattering down about her ears.

"Just wait a bit, and let me take the lead, miss. You hand me things,

I'll pile 'em in the barrow and wheel 'em off to the barn; then it will

save time, and be finished up tidy."

Nelly did as he advised, and very soon nothing but dust remained.

"What next?" she asked, not knowing in the least.

"I'll sweep up while you see if Polly can come and scrub the room out.

It ought to be done before you stay here, let alone the patients."

"So it had," said Nelly, looking very wise all of a sudden. "Will says

the wards--that means the rooms, Tony--are scrubbed every day or two,

and kept very clean, and well venti-something--I can't say it; but it

means having a plenty of air come in. I can clean windows while Polly

mops, and then we shall soon be done." Away she ran, feeling very busy

and important. Polly came, and very soon the room looked like another

place. The four latticed windows were set wide open, so the sunshine

came dancing through the vines that grew outside, and curious roses

peeped in to see what frolic was afoot. The walls shone white again,

for not a spider dared to stay; the wide seat which encircled the room

was dustless now,--the floor as nice as willing hands could make it;

and the south wind blew away all musty odors with its fragrant breath.

"How fine it looks!" cried Nelly, dancing on the doorstep, lest a

foot-print should mar the still damp floor.

"I'd almost like to fall sick for the sake of staying here," said Tony,

admiringly. "Now, what sort of beds are you going to have, miss?

"I suppose it won't do to put butterflies and toads and worms into beds

like the real soldiers where Will was?" answered Nelly, looking anxious.

Tony could hardly help shouting at the idea; but, rather than trouble

his little mistress, he said very soberly: "I'm afraid they wouldn't

lay easy, not being used to it. Tucking up a butterfly would about

kill him; the worms would be apt to get lost among the bed-clothes; and

the toads would tumble out the first thing."

"I shall have to ask mamma about it. What will you do while I'm gone?"

said Nelly, unwilling that a moment should be lost.

"I'll make frames for nettings to the windows, else the doves will come

in and eat up the sick people.

"I think they will know that it is a hospital, and be too kind to hurt

or frighten their neighbors," began Nelly; but as she spoke, a plump

white dove walked in, looked about with its red-ringed eyes, and

quietly pecked up a tiny bug that had just ventured out from the crack

where it had taken refuge when the deluge came.

"Yes, we must have the nettings. I'll ask mamma for some lace," said

Nelly, when she saw that; and, taking her pet dove on her shoulder,

told it about her hospital as she went toward the house; for, loving

all little creatures as she did, it grieved her to have any harm befall

even the least or plainest of them. She had a sweet child-fancy that

her playmates understood her language as she did theirs, and that

birds, flowers, animals, and insects felt for her the same affection

which she felt for them. Love always makes friends, and nothing seemed

to fear the gentle child; but welcomed her like a little sun who shone

alike on all, and never suffered an eclipse.

She was gone some time, and when she came back her mind was full of new

plans, one hand full of rushes, the other of books, while over her head

floated the lace, and a bright green ribbon hung across her arm.

"Mamma says that the best beds will be little baskets, boxes, cages,

and any sort of thing that suits the patients; for each will need

different care and food and medicine. I have not baskets enough, so, as

I cannot have pretty white beds, I am going to braid pretty green nests

for my patients, and, while I do it, mamma thought you'd read to me the

pages she has marked, so that we may begin right."

"Yes, miss; I like that. But what is the ribbon for?" asked Tony.

"O, that's for you. Will says that, if you are to be an army surgeon,

you must have a green band on your arm; so I got this to tie on when we

play hospital."

Tony let her decorate the sleeve of his gray jacket, and when the

nettings were done, the welcome books were opened and enjoyed. It was a

happy time, sitting in the sunshine, with leaves pleasantly astir all

about them, doves cooing overhead, and flowers sweetly gossiping

together through the summer afternoon. Nelly wove her smooth, green

rushes. Tony pored over his pages, and both found something better

than fairy legends in the family histories of insects, birds, and

beasts. All manner of wonders appeared, and were explained to them,

till Nelly felt as if a new world had been given her, so full of

beauty, interest, and pleasure that she never could be tired of

studying it. Many of these things were not strange to Tony, because,

born among plants, he had grown up with them as if they were brothers

and sisters, and the sturdy, brown-faced boy had learned many lessons

which no poet or philosopher could have taught him, unless he had

become as child-like a s himself, and studied from the same great book.

When the baskets were done, the marked pages all read, and the sun

began to draw his rosy curtains round him before smiling "Good night,"

Nelly ranged the green beds round the room, Tony put in the screens,

and the hospital was ready. The little nurse was so excited that she

could hardly eat her supper, and directly afterwards ran up to tell

Will how well she had succeeded with the first part of her enterprise.

Now brother Will was a brave young officer, who had fought stoutly and

done his duty like a man. But when lying weak and wounded at home, the

cheerful courage which had led him safely through many dangers seemed

to have deserted him, and he was often gloomy, sad, or fretful, because

he longed to be at his post again, and time passed very slowly. This

troubled his mother, and made Nelly wonder why he found lying in a

pleasant room so much harder than fighting battles or making weary

marches. Anything that interested and amused him was very welcome, and

when Nelly, climbing on the arm of his sofa, told her plans, mishaps,

and successes, he laughed out more heartily than he had done for many a

day, and his thin face began to twinkle with fun as it used to do so

long ago. That pleased Nelly, and she chatted like any affectionate

little magpie, till Will was really interested; for when one is ill,

small things amuse.

"Do you expect your patients to come to you, Nelly?" he asked.

"No, I shall go and look for them. I often see poor things suffering in

the garden, and the wood, and always feel as if they ought to be taken

care of, as people are."

"You won't like to carry insane bugs, lame toads, and convulsive

kittens in your hands, and they would not stay on a stretcher if you

had one. You should have an ambulance and be a branch of the Sanitary

Commission," said Will.

Nelly had often heard the words, but did not quite understand what they

meant. So Will told her of that great never-failing charity, to which

thousands owe their lives; and the child listened with lips apart, eyes

often full, and so much love and admiration in her heart that she could

find no words in which to tell it. When her brother paused, she said

earnestly: "Yes, I will be a Sanitary. This little cart of mine shall

be my amb'lance, and I'll never let my water-barrels go empty, never

drive too fast, or be rough with my poor passengers, like some of the

men you tell about. Does this look like an ambulance, Will?"

"Not a bit, but it shall, if you and mamma like to help me. I want

four long bits of cane, a square of white cloth, some pieces of thin

wood, and the gum-pot," said Will, sitting up to examine the little

cart, feeling like a boy again as he took out his knife and began to

whittle. Upstairs and downstairs ran Nelly till all necessary materials

were collected, and almost breathlessly she watched her brother arch

the canes over the cart, cover them with the cloth, and fit an upper

shelf of small compartments, each lined with cotton-wool to serve as

beds for wounded insects, lest they should hurt one another or jostle

out. The lower part was left free for any larger creatures which Nelly

might find. Among her toys she had a tiny cask which only needed a peg

to be water-tight; this was filled and fitted in before, because, as

the small sufferers needed no seats, there was no place for it behind,

and, as Nelly was both horse and driver, it was more convenient in

front. On each side of it stood a box of stores. In one were minute

rollers, as bandages are called, a few bottles not yet filled, and a

wee doll's jar of cold-cream, because Nelly could not feel that her

outfit was complete without a medicine-chest. The other box was full of

crumbs, bits of sugar, bird-seed, and grains of wheat and corn, lest

any famished stranger should die for want of food before she got it

home. Then mamma painted "U.S. San. Com." in bright letters on the

cover, and Nelly received her charitable plaything with a long sigh of

satisfaction.

"Nine o'clock already. Bless me, what a short evening this has been,"

exclaimed Will, as Nelly came to give him her good-night kiss.

"And such a happy one," she answered.

"Thank you very, very much, dear Will. I only wish my little amb'lance

was big enough for you to go in,--I'd so like to give you the first

ride."

"Nothing I should like better, if it were possible, though I've a

prejudice against ambulances in general. But as I cannot ride, I'll

try and hop out to your hospital to-morrow, and see how you get

on,"--which was a great deal for Captain Will to say, because he had

been too listless to leave his sofa for several days.

That promise sent Nelly happily away to bed, only stopping to pop her

head out of the window to see if it was likely to be a fair day

to-morrow, and to tell Tony about the new plan as he passed below.

"Where shall you go to look for your first load of sick folks, miss?"

he asked.

"All round the garden first, then through the grove, and home across

the brook. Do you think I can find any patients so?" said Nelly.

"I know you will. Good night, miss," and Tony walked away with a merry

look on his face, that Nelly would not have understood if she had seen

it.

Up rose the sun bright and early, and up rose Nurse Nelly almost as

early and as bright. Breakfast was taken in a great hurry, and before

the dew was off the grass this branch of the S. C. was all astir.

Papa, mamma, big brother and baby sister, men and maids, all looked out

to see the funny little ambulance depart, and nowhere in all the summer

fields was there a happier child than Nelly, as she went smiling down

the garden path, where tall flowers kissed her as she passed and every

blithe bird seemed singing a "Good speed!"

"How I wonder what I shall find first," she thought, looking sharply on

all sides as she went. Crickets chirped, grasshoppers leaped, ants

worked busily at their subterranean houses, spiders spun shining webs

from twig to twig, bees were coming for their bags of gold, and

butterflies had just begun their holiday. A large white one alighted

on the top of the ambulance, walked over the inscription as if spelling

it letter by letter, then floated away from flower to flower, like one

carrying the good news far and wide.

"Now every one will know about the hospital and be glad to see me

coming," thought Nelly. And indeed it seemed so, for just then a

black-bird, sitting on a garden wall, burst out with a song full of

musical joy, Nelly's kitten came running after to stare at the wagon

and rub her soft side against it, a bright-eyed toad looked out from

his cool bower among the lily-leaves, and at that minute Nelly found

her first patient. In one of the dewy cobwebs hanging from a shrub

near by sat a fat black and yellow spider, watching a fly whose

delicate wings were just caught in the net. The poor fly buzzed

pitifully, and struggled so hard that the whole web shook: but the more

he struggled, the more he entangled himself, and the fierce spider was

preparing to descend that it might weave a shroud about its prey, when

a little finger broke the threads and lifted the fly safely into the

palm of a hand, where he lay faintly humming his thanks.

Nelly had heard much about contrabands, knew who they were, and was

very much interested in them; so, when she freed the poor black fly she

played he was her contraband, and felt glad that her first patient was

one that needed help so much. Carefully brushing away as much of the

web as she could, she left small Pompey, as she named him, to free his

own legs, lest her clumsy fingers should hurt him; then she laid him in

one of the soft beds with a grain or two of sugar if he needed

refreshment, and bade him rest and recover from his fright, remembering

that he was at liberty to fly away whenever he liked, because she had

no wish to male a slave of him.

Feeling very happy over this new friend, Nelly went on singing softly

as she walked, and presently she found a pretty caterpillar dressed in

brown fur, although the day was warm. He lay so still she thought him

dead, till he rolled himself into a ball as she touched him.

"I think you are either faint from the heat of this thick coat of

yours, or that you are going to make a cocoon of yourself, Mr. Fuzz,"

said Nelly.

"Now I want to see you turn into a butterfly, so I shall take you, and

if get lively again I will let you go. I shall play that you have given

out on a march, as the soldiers sometimes do, and been left behind for

the Sanitary people to see to."

In went sulky Mr. Fuzz, and on trundled the ambulance till a golden

green rose-beetle was discovered, lying on his back kicking as if in a

fit.

"Dear me, what shall I do for him?" thought Nelly. "He acts as baby did

when she was so ill, and mamma put her in a warm bath. I haven't got

my little tub here, or any hot water, and I'm afraid the beetle would

not like it if I had. Perhaps he has pain in his stomach; I'll turn

him over, and pat his back, as nurse does baby's when she cries for

pain like that."

She set the beetle on his legs, and did her best to comfort him; but he

was evidently in great distress, for he could not walk, and instead of

lifting his emerald overcoat, and spreading the wings that lay

underneath, be turned over again, and kicked more violently than

before. Not knowing what to do, Nelly put him into one of her soft

nests for Tony to cure if possible. She found no more patients in the

garden except a dead bee, which she wrapped in a leaf, and took home to

bury. When she came to the grove, it was so green and cool she longed

to sit and listen to the whisper of the pines, and watch the

larch-tassels wave in the wind. But, recollecting her charitable

errand, she went rustling along the pleasant path till she came to

another patient, over which she stood considering several minutes

before she could decide whether it was best to take it to her hospital,

because it was a little gray snake, with bruised tail. She knew it

would not hurt her, yet she was afraid of it; she thought it pretty,

yet could not like it: she pitied its pain, yet shrunk from helping it,

for it had a fiery eye, and a keep quivering tongue, that looked as if

longing to bite.

"He is a rebel, I wonder if I ought to be good to him," thought Nelly,

watching the reptile writhe with pain. "Will said there were sick

rebels in his hospital, and one was very kind to him. It says, too, in

my little book, 'Love your enemies.' I think snakes are mine, but I

guess I'll try and love him because God made him. Some boy will kill

him if I leave him here, and then perhaps his mother will be very sad

about it. Come, poor worm, I wish to help you, so be patient, and

don't frighten me."

Then Nelly laid her little handkerchief on the ground, and with a stick

gently lifted the wounded snake upon it, and, folding it together, laid

it in the ambulance. She was thoughtful after that, and so busy

puzzling her young head about the duty of loving those who hate us, and

being kind to those who are disagreeable or unkind, that she went

through the rest of the wood quite forgetful of her work. A soft

"Queek, queek!" made her look up and listen. The sound came from the

long meadow-grass, and, bending it carefully back, she found a

half-fledged bird, with one wing trailing on the ground, and its eyes

dim with pain or hunger.

"You darling thing, did you fall out of your nest and hurt your wing?"

cried Nelly, looking up into the single tree that stood near by. No

nest was to be seen, no parent birds hovered overhead, and little Robin

could only tell its troubles in that mournful "Queek, queek, queek!"

Nelly ran to get both her chests, and, sitting down beside the bird,

tried to feed it. To her joy it ate crumb after crumb, as if it were

half starved, and soon fluttered nearer a confiding fearlessness that

made her very proud. Soon baby Robin seemed quite comfortable, his eye

brightened, he "queeked" no more, and but for the drooping wing would

have been himself again. With one of her bandages Nelly bound both

wings closely to his sides for fear he should hurt himself by trying to

fly; and though he seemed amazed at her proceedings, he behaved very

well, only staring at her, and ruffling up his few feathers in a funny

way that made her laugh. Then she had to discover some way of

accommodating her two larger patients so that neither should hurt nor

alarm the other. A bright thought came to her after much pondering.

Carefully lifting the handkerchief, she pinned the two ends to the roof

of the cart, and there swung little Forked-tongue, while Rob lay easily

below.

By this time, Nelly began to wonder how it happened that she found so

many more injured things than ever before. But it never entered her

innocent head that Tony had searched the wood and meadow before she was

up, and laid most of these creatures ready to her hands, that she might

not be disappointed. She had not yet lost her faith in fairies, so she

fancied they too belonged to her small sisterhood, and presently it did

really seem impossible to doubt that the good folk had been at work.

Coming to the bridge that crossed the brook, she stopped a moment to

watch the water ripple over the bright pebbles, the ferns bend down to

drink, and the funny tadpoles frolic in quieter nooks, where the sun

shone, and the dragon-flies swung among the rushes. When Nelly turned

to go on, her blue eyes opened wide, and the handle of the ambulance

dropped with a noise that caused a stout frog to skip into the water

heels over head. Directly in the middle of the bridge was a pretty

green tent, made of two tall burdock leaves. The stems were stuck into

cracks between the boards, the tips were pinned together with a thorn,

and one great buttercup nodded in the doorway like a sleepy sentinel.

Nelly stared and smiled, listened, and looked about on every side.

Nothing was seen but the quiet meadow and the shady grove, nothing was

heard but the babble of the brook and the cheery music of the bobolinks.

"Yes," said Nelly softly to herself, "that is a fairy tent, and in it I

may find a baby elf sick with whooping-cough or scarlet-fever. How

splendid it would be! only I could never nurse such a dainty thing."

Stooping eagerly, she peeped over the buttercup's drowsy head, and saw

what seemed a tiny cock of hay. She had no time to feel disappointed,

for the haycock began to stir, and, looking nearer, she beheld two

silvery gray mites, who wagged wee tails, and stretched themselves as

if they had just waked up. Nelly knew that they were young field-mice,

and rejoiced over them, feeling rather relieved that no fairy had

appeared, though she still believed them to have had a hand in the

matter.

"I shall call the mice my Babes in the Wood, because they are lost and

covered up with leaves," said Nelly, as she laid them in her snuggest

bed, where they nestled close together, and fell fast asleep again.

Being very anxious to get home, that she might tell her adventures, and

show how great was the need of a sanitary commission in that region,

Nelly marched proudly up the avenue, and, having displayed her load,

hurried to the hospital, where another applicant was waiting for her.

On the step of the door lay a large turtle, with one claw gone, and on

his back was pasted a bit of paper, with his name,--"Commodore Waddle,

U.S.N." Nelly knew this was a joke of Will's, but welcomed the ancient

mariner, and called Tony to help her get him in.

All that morning they were very busy settling the new-comers, for both

people and books had to be consulted before they could decide what diet

and treatment was best for each. The winged contraband had taken Nelly

at her word, and flown away on the journey home. Little Rob was put in

a large cage, where he could use his legs, yet not injure his lame

wing. Forked-tongue lay under a wire cover, on sprigs of fennel, for

the gardener said that snakes were fond of it. The Babes in the Wood

were put to bed in one of the rush baskets, under a cotton-wool

coverlet. Greenback, the beetle, found ease for his unknown aches in

the warm heart of a rose, where he sunned himself all day. The

Commodore was made happy in a tub of water, grass, and stones, and Mr.

Fuzz was put in a well-ventilated glass box to decide whether he would

be a cocoon or not.

Tony had not been idle while his mistress was away, and he showed her

the hospital garden he had made close by, in which were cabbage,

nettle, and mignonette plants for the butterflies, flowering herbs for

the bees, chick-weed and hemp for the birds, catnip for the pussies,

and plenty of room left for whatever other patients might need. In the

afternoon, while Nelly did her task at lint-picking, talking busily to

Will as she worked, and interesting him in her affairs, Tony cleared a

pretty spot in the grove for the burying-ground, and made ready some

small bits of slate on which to write the names of those who died. He

did not have it ready an hour too soon, for at sunset two little graves

were needed, and Nurse Nelly shed tender tears for her first losses as

she laid the motherless mice in one smooth hollow, and the gray-coated

rebel in the other. She had learned to care for him already, and when

she found him dead, was very glad she had been kind to him, hoping that

he knew it, and died happier in her hospital than all alone in the

shadowy wood.

The rest of Nelly's patients prospered, and of the many added afterward

few died, because of Tony's skilful treatment and her own faithful

care. Every morning when the day proved fair the little ambulance went

out upon its charitable errand; every afternoon Nelly worked for the

human sufferers whom she loved; and every evening brother Will read

aloud to her from useful books, showed her wonders with his microscope,

or prescribed remedies for the patients, whom he soon knew by name and

took much interest in. It was Nelly's holiday; but, though she studied

no lessons, she learned much, and unconsciously made her pretty play

both an example and a rebuke for others.

At first it seemed a childish pastime, and people laughed. But there

was something in the familiar words "sanitary," "hospital" and

"ambulance" that made them pleasant sounds to many ears. As reports of

Nelly's work went through the neighborhood, other children came to see

and copy her design. Rough lads looked ashamed when in her wards they

found harmless creatures hurt by them, and going out they said among

themselves, "We won't stone birds, chase butterflies, and drown the

girls' little cats any more, though we won't tell them so." And most of

the lads kept their word so well that people said there never had been

so many birds before as all that summer haunted wood and field.

Tender-hearted playmates brought their pets to be cured; even busy

farmers bad a friendly word for the small charity, which reminded them

so sweetly of the great one which should never be forgotten; lonely

mothers sometimes looked out with wet eyes as the little ambulance went

by, recalling thoughts or absent sons who might be journeying painfully

to some far-off hospital, where brave women waited to tend them with

hands as willing, hearts as tender, as those the gentle child gave to

her self-appointed task.

At home the charm worked also. No more idle days for Nelly, or fretful

ones for Will, because the little sister would not neglect the helpless

creatures so dependent upon her, and the big brother was ashamed to

complain after watching the patience of these lesser sufferers, and

merrily said he would try to bear his own wound as quietly and bravely

as the "Commodore" bore his. Nelly never knew how much good she had

done Captain Will till he went away again in the early autumn. Then he

thanked her for it, and though she cried for joy and sorrow she never

forgot it, because he left something behind him which always pleasantly

reminded her of the double success her little hospital had won.

When Will was gone and she had prayed softly in her heart that God

would keep him safe and bring him home again, she dried her tears and

went away to find comfort in the place where he had spent so many happy

hours with her. She had not been there before that day, and when she

reached the door she stood quite still and wanted very much to cry

again, far something beautiful had happened. She had often asked Will

for a motto for her hospital, and he had promised to find her one. She

thought he had forgotten it; but even in the hurry of that busy day he

had found time to do more than keep his word, while Nelly sat indoors,

lovingly brightening the tarnished buttons on the blue coat that had

seen so many battles.

Above the roof, where the doves cooed in the sun, now rustled a white

flag with the golden "S.C." shining on it as the wind tossed it to and

fro. Below, on the smooth panel of the door, a skilful pencil had

drawn two arching ferns, in whose soft shadow, poised upon a mushroom,

stood a little figure of Nurse Nelly, and underneath it another of Dr.

Tony bottling medicine, with spectacles upon his nose. Both hands of

the miniature Nelly were outstretched, as if beckoning to a train of

insects, birds and beasts, which was so long that it not only circled

round the lower rim of this fine sketch, but dwindled in the distance

to mere dots and lines. Such merry conceits as one found there! A

mouse bringing the tail it had lost in some cruel trap, a dor-bug with

a shade over its eyes, an invalid butterfly carried in a tiny litter by

long-legged spiders, a fat frog with gouty feet hopping upon crutches,

Jenny Wren sobbing in a nice handkerchief, as she brought dear dead

Cock Robin to be restored to life. Rabbits, lambs, cats, calves, and

turtles, all came trooping up to be healed by the benevolent little

maid who welcomed them so heartily.

Nelly laughed at these comical mites till the tears ran down her

cheeks, and thought she never could be tired of looking at them. But

presently she saw four lines clearly printed underneath her picture,

and her childish face grew sweetly serious as she read the words of a

great poet, which Will had made both compliment and motto:--

"He prayeth best who loveth best

All things, both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all."

A Modern Cinderella; Or, The Little Old Shoe, and Other Stories · 第 18 / 19 题