SUNSHINE.
THE next Monday morning, Mrs. Lynn was up early. She stepped briskly
about, attending to some little household duties. She was impatient to
be off to the city, that she might set her mind at rest about Katy,
and in a short time, she and her husband were on their way. She left
him at his office, and very soon after the gray pony was tied in front
of Jacob Scram's saloon. The door was joyfully opened by Katy herself.
Mrs. Scram soon came in, and Katy was sent out in the yard with the
baby.
"I called," said Mrs. Lynn, "to know what you intend to do about Katy.
Are you anxious to keep her?"
"Well; I rather guess we ain't. If we can get rid of her, we shall be
glad enough."
"Then you would be willing to give up all claim upon her if I should
take her?"
"Now you don't say," said Mrs. Scram, "that you want a 'young one' like
that. I s'pose maybe you think you can make her good for something
running errands and scouring knives, but I can tell you she's more
bother than she's worth."
If Mrs. Scram had known that one of Mrs. Lynn's reasons for taking Katy
was love for her, she would have been still more astonished.
"You may call Katy," said Mrs. Lynn, "and I will take her with me now,
and you need not send any clothes with her."
"Well, if that don't beat all!" said Mrs. Scram to herself as she went
to call Katy.
"Katy," said Mrs. Lynn, "put on your hat and shawl and come with me,
won't you? Mrs. Scram says you may, and you would like a ride this fine
morning, I'm sure."
Katy waited for no second invitation, and was soon seated by Mrs.
Lynn's side in the little carriage.
Gray trotted briskly off, and Katy—why, Katy wondered if she were
dreaming—if it were truly herself or some other little girl. She did
not speak—she forgot to speak—she looked and enjoyed. And when they
came out into the open country, all she said was, "Oh, I didn't think
it would be so pretty!"
There were the fields that Daisy had told her of, and the woods.
Birds sang, and squirrels chattered, as they rode under the drooping
branches. Mrs. Lynn did not talk much, either. It was pleasure enough
to watch Katy's face, that expressed so much wonder and joy.
"Katy," said Mrs. Lynn, after a little, "how do you think you would
like living with me?"
"Oh, Mrs. Lynn!" said Katy. "I should like it so much. Could I? Will
you let me? I will be so good and work so hard for you."
"Katy," said Mrs. Lynn, "you are on your way to my house now, and if
you are a good girl, you shall always stay with us."
"Needn't I never go back to Mrs. Scram's any more?" said Katy.
"Never any more," said Mrs. Lynn. "You shall be our own dear little
daughter."
Katy gave a little scream of delight, then the tears came to her
eyes, and rolled down her cheeks. She would have enjoyed throwing her
arms about Mrs. Lynn's neck, and kissing her, but she was too shy for
that. And then, besides, she had a feeling that it was not fitting for
such a ragged, forlorn-looking little beggar girl to come quite so
close to the delicate lady by her side, with her pretty white cambric
morning-dress.
But she managed to say at last, in a choked little voice, "Oh! I will
try to be so good. I am 'so' glad!"
And now little Gray turned into the gate-way he knew so well, and up
the-winding road to his mistress' door.
It was a lovely spot they were coming to. On one side of the graveled
carriage-drive was a large, green lawn filled with tall trees, and
seats were scattered here and there under them. The fountain in the
centre made pleasant music, and farther up on the hill the white tent
glimmered through the trees. On the other side, a flower garden was gay
with blossoms. The gothic house had broad piazzas. One on the sunny
side where Mrs. Lynn came with her book or work on cool mornings,—one
on the north side, a cool retreat covered with vines.
[Illustration: A lovely spot.]
The first work, of course, on getting home, was to give Katy a good
bath and change her clothes. And where were the clothes to come from?
Mrs. Lynn was like Dorcas, the woman it tells of in the Bible, who made
garments for the poor.
Katy was not the only little girl she had searched out and fed and
clothed. When her own clothes were ready to be laid aside, she would
cut from them a garment large enough for a child, and give it to a poor
woman in the neighborhood to make.
So it happened that there was an old trunk up-stairs, half full of
clothes of all sizes. Some for little toddlers, and some for ten and
twelve year old children. It had been filled and emptied many times;
for many a bundle of clothes went from that house to the poor in the
city.
It was not long before a little girl in a pink dress and white apron
might have been seen in the garden with Mrs. Lynn. It did not look much
like Katy at a distance, but it was, only such a very clean, happy Katy
that she hardly knew herself.
Early the next day, Mrs. Lynn went to the city. She spent the whole
morning making purchases for Katy. It was wonderful how much one little
girl seemed to need. There were dark ginghams for play and work, and
pretty light cambrics and white dresses for other occasions. Nothing
was forgotten, from the sash and pretty boots to the broad-brimmed hat
and thick shoes for gardening.
One summer, Mrs. Lynn, expecting a little niece to spend a few weeks
with her, had amused herself in fitting up a room in the way which she
thought would please a child. It was called the pink room. It was a
pretty little chamber with a large window looking off on to purple and
blue hills. The paper on the wall had the faintest tinge of pink,—the
little bedstead and bureau and washstand were pink, with small bouquets
of flowers on them. The carpet was a light ground, with red and pink
and white roses on it. The window had a white muslin curtain looped
back with pink ribbon. Pretty pictures hung on the walls, and some
shelves filled with choice little books.
This room was given to Katy,—this bright, beautiful room. It always
looked, even on dark days, as if the sun were setting and shone into
it. There is no use in trying to tell you how she felt when she was
taken into it for the first time, but something as we shall, I suppose,
when we see for the first time the beautiful heaven that God has
prepared for us. This world will seem to us then just like the dark
cellar and gloomy saloon that Katy had lived in so long.
She found courage now that she was clean and neatly dressed to throw
her arms around Mrs. Lynn's neck and kiss her and thank her. And that
dear lady took her in her arms and kissed her many times.
"Now, my new little daughter," said Mrs. Lynn, "I am going to teach
you to be a very orderly little girl." And opening the door of a large
closet, she showed to Katy hooks just high enough for her to reach, to
hang her clothes on.
"Here in this little drawer put your gloves, in this one your
handkerchiefs, in this one your aprons; and I feel sure that my Katy
will try to please me in this, and that I shall never come up here and
find all your drawers in confusion."
I t was a great pleasure to Katy to hang her dresses on the hooks and
place the neatly-folded clothes in her drawers. And a great many times
in the day, she tripped softly up-stairs and opened the door of her
closet and took one more look at her dresses,—took down her white sack
and tried it on, then peeped into every drawer in the bureau as if to
make sure that the snowy little piles had not run away.
Then the little drawer that held her gloves and handkerchiefs—how
precious it was! The little brown kid gloves for best, and a lisle
thread pair for every day. She, Katy, with gloves on! Just like Daisy.
Then all these things were her very own. It was too good; what a
strange life it was.
Everything was different. In this house, there was no beer or whisky,
no cuffs on the ear, no sharp words or wrangling. But instead, there
was peace and good-will, even down to Susan and Mike; there were
prayers and hymns of praise, and loving words and deeds filled up the
whole day.
Mrs. Lynn began to give Katy regular lessons, for the poor child had
never been taught to read. As this was the long summer vacation, she
could not go to school yet, and Mrs. Lynn was glad it was so, for now
she could teach her a little before she commenced school.
It was not only in reading and spelling and writing that Katy took
lessons, but in many useful things besides. She succeeded finely in
keeping her room in order. One secret of that was that Mrs. Lynn made a
rule that everything must be put back in its place just as soon as she
had done wearing or using it. She was getting to be quite a gardener,
too, and spent many pleasant hours in the garden learning the names of
plants, helping to tie up stray vines, pulling weeds, or gathering and
arranging flowers.
Then, seated under a tree, perhaps she took a lesson in sewing. How
many times she pricked her fingers, and what funny looking stitches she
made!
Then when the work was all done, she and her new mamma took long rides
over the hills, the green fields stretching away before them as far as
they could see, then a bit of woods with squirrels chippering and birds
singing. What a sweet smell, and how still it was when they stopped to
rest a few minutes! No sounds but the squirrels and birds, and crickets
chirping, and the music of the tall trees as they bowed and waved to
each other in the little breeze. What beds of moss, and the red berries
hiding away in it, and the white violets peeping up pretty heads, and
the golden sunshine here and there making patches of light and shade.
This was the country at last! No wonder her own mamma was always
wanting to get back to it.
Katy was always disappointed when the horse's head was turned toward
the city for a ride. There was where her old life was lived, and she
did not love it.
Mr. Lynn had opened his heart to Katy from the first, and he soon grew
very fond of the little maiden who was sure to come to the gate to meet
him when he came home, and many a frolic they had through the grounds,
Katy running and shouting in high glee, or she was in the swing, and he
sent her far up among the green branches.
Katy had a play-house, too, under the trees, and her mother had bought
her a doll, and a cradle, and some little chairs and a table, and
dishes to play tea, for she said, "The poor child shall not be cheated
out of every bit of her childhood, after all."
It was hard to tell who was happier, Katy or her new father and mother.
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