“Wake, slumberer! morning’s golden hours
Are speeding fast away;
The sun has waked the opening flowers,
To greet the new-born day.”
――EPES SARGENT.
Elsie stirred in her sleep, half dreamily conscious that it was near
her usual hour for rising; then some one bent over her and a kiss on
the lips awoke her fully.
“Papa!” she cried softly, looking up into his face with her now
wide-open beautiful eyes, then putting her arm round his neck she drew
him down closer and returned his caress, with a whispered
“Good-morning, my own dear papa.”
“Good-morning, my darling,” he said; “do you feel well and bright and
as if a gallop before breakfast with your father would be enjoyable?”
“Oh, yes, yes, indeed, papa!” she cried, starting up, with a face full
of delight.
“Well, then, get up at once; let Aunt Chloe dress you in your
riding-habit, and give you a glass of good rich milk, and we will go.
Annis seems to be still sleeping. Don’t make any noise to disturb her,
and after breakfast you and she can take a short drive in the
phaeton.”
“I wish mamma was going with us,” Elsie said, as her father assisted
her to mount her pony.
“It would be very pleasant to have her company,” he answered, “but she
prefers another nap, having lost sleep during the night by the babe’s
wakefulness.”
“Annis is getting another nap, too,” Elsie remarked. “I peeped in at
her just before I left my rooms.”
“Ah! then I hope she will not miss you.”
“Oh, let us have a brisk ride, won’t you, papa?” she asked as they
passed out of the grounds into the highway.
“I see no objection,” he returned, smiling indulgently upon her; and
away they flew.
Elsie had not been long gone when Annis awoke. She lay still for a
little thinking. She remembered that to-day she was to begin lessons
with her Cousin Horace, and the prospect was not altogether pleasant;
she feared he would think her a dull scholar and not so far advanced
in her studies as she ought to be.
Then it occurred to her that it was time to get up. The fire had been
attended to and the room was very pleasantly warm. She threw back the
covers and stepped out upon the thick soft carpet.
“Ah, is you gettin’ up, honey?” asked Aunt Chloe, peering in at the
half-open door. “Ise done dressin’ my chile, and now I kin help you ef
yous willin’.”
“Thank you, auntie, I’d be very glad to have you do up my hair and
hook my dress. But where is Elsie? It is so quiet in there that I
thought she was still asleep.”
“Yah, yah!” laughed the old nurse. “Miss Elsie, she’s done gone ridin’
wid Massa Horace.”
“Why, dear me! I must be shamefully late!” exclaimed Annis in dismay,
and beginning her toilet in great haste.
“No, missy, yous’ got plenty time, dey’s early; dat’s all.”
Much relieved by the assurance, Annis went on with her dressing rather
more leisurely.
She had finished, and was sitting in an easy chair beside the fire,
reading her Bible, when Elsie returned from her gallop, and came in
holding up the skirt of her habit with one hand and carrying in the
other a little gold-mounted riding-whip. She was radiant with health
and happiness, her eyes shining and a lovely color in her cheeks.
“Good morning, Annis dear,” she said, running to her cousin with an
offered kiss. “Please excuse me for leaving you, but you seemed to be
having a very nice nap, and papa wanted me to take a short ride with
him before breakfast.”
“I don’t see any call for excuse,” returned Annis, with perfect good
humor. “I’m glad you went; for I’m sure it has done you good,” she
added, gazing admiringly into the sweet, bright face. “How beautiful
you are, Elsie!”
“Ah, don’t flatter me and make me vain,” Elsie said with sudden
gravity. “But you are reading and I am interrupting you.”
“I can finish while you change your dress,” said Annis.
“And have my morning reading with papa,” added Elsie, hurrying into
her dressing-room. “Please, mammy, make me ready for breakfast as fast
as you can, or I shall not have much time with papa,” she said to Aunt
Chloe, who was there in waiting with a pretty morning dress and sash
laid out in readiness.
“Yes, honey darlin’, Ise hab you ready in less dan no time,” she
responded, beginning to remove the riding hat and habit as she spoke.
Her toilet complete, Elsie hastened, Bible in hand, to her father’s
study. She found him seated with his Bible open before him.
“I hope I have not kept you waiting long, papa,” she said, taking her
accustomed seat upon his knee.
“No, daughter, you have been very prompt,” he replied, tenderly
enfolding her with his arm. “Your ride has not wearied you?”
“Oh, no, sir. I am not tired at all.”
They read a few verses, talked together of the truth taught in them,
then knelt while Mr. Dinsmore offered a short prayer. After that she
resumed her seat upon his knee until the call to breakfast.
“You have not forgotten that lessons are to be begun again to-day?” he
said interrogatively, taking the small white hands in his and softly
patting and stroking them as he spoke.
“No, sir, and I intend to try to be very industrious, to make up for
lost time.”
“That is right, and I don’t expect to hear a word of grumbling over
the Latin lesson.”
“Papa,” she exclaimed energetically, “if you do I ought to be
punished!”
“In what way?” he asked with unmoved gravity, though there was a
twinkle of amusement in his eye.
“Ah, that of course would be for you to decide, papa,” she said,
giving him a hug and kiss.
“Well, I advise you not to give me the opportunity. Have you thought
what you would like to send as Christmas gifts to your cousins at
Pleasant Plains?”
“No, sir.”
“Better talk it over with mamma.”
“And you, papa. I do think you always know better how to please with
presents than anybody else.”
“Oh, my child,” he said, laughing, “if I swallowed all your loving
flattery, what a conceited creature I should become! Perhaps you can,
in talking with Mildred and Annis, get an idea of what would best
please the others. Ah! there is the call to breakfast;” and gently
putting her off his knee, he rose, took her hand in his, and led her
to the breakfast-room.
As soon as the meal and family worship were over, the little girls had
their drive. Annis enjoyed it exceedingly, and Elsie nearly as much.
By the time they had returned and taken off their wraps the hour for
study had arrived.
Elsie took out her books, showed Annis her lessons for the day, and
seating themselves side by side, they conned their tasks together.
They were about equally advanced in their studies and could work
together to advantage, as Mr. Dinsmore discovered on hearing the
recitations and examining Annis as to her acquirements.
“Papa,” said Elsie, “I think it very nice and enjoyable to have
company in studying and reciting, and I guess I shall learn all the
faster for it.”
“I hope so, daughter, but I do not like that use of the word guess――in
the sense of expect, think, suppose, presume, conjecture, believe.
Don’t use it in that way again.”
“I’m afraid she has learned it from me, Cousin Horace,” Annis said
ingenuously. “It’s a bad habit of mine that father and mother both
dislike. I have tried to break myself of it, and I mean to try harder
after this.”
“I’ll try to remember not to use it any more, papa,” said Elsie. “But
please tell me is it quite incorrect or only inelegant?”
“It is quite incorrect when one guesses about things well known; it is
only inelegant when used in the sense of conjecture, divine, surmise,
suppose, believe, think concerning something we do not know; any one
of these words seems to me preferable. The use of guess in those
senses is often spoken of as an Americanism, but unjustly, as it has
been so used by Milton, Locke, Shakespeare, and other prominent
English writers.”
“I am glad to know that,” said Annis. “Cousin Horace, I think I shall
like you as a tutor very much indeed.”
“You don’t guess so?” he returned with a smile. “Well, what do you say
to taking a riding lesson now?”
“Oh, that I should like it greatly; if it will not trouble you or take
too much of your time.”
“No; I can spare time for that, and also for a walk with my two
pupils,” he said, laying a hand caressingly on Elsie’s head as she
stood at his side. “How soon can you be ready?”
“Oh, directly, papa,” was Elsie’s answer. Annis’s, “In two minutes,
cousin,” and they ran gayly from the room.
“I haven’t seen Milly since breakfast!” exclaimed Annis, tripping
along by Mr. Dinsmore’s side. “I wonder if she went into the city to
shop?”
“No,” he answered, “she and my wife were returning their calls this
morning. I was invited to accompany them, and should have enjoyed
doing so had not business detained me at home.”
“O papa, what a pity!” said Elsie. “Couldn’t you have heard our
lessons this afternoon?”
“That would have been possible, but not best, I thought; beside, I had
other matters, connected with the work on the plantation, claiming my
attention. Is Mildred wanting to go to the city to shop, Annis?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the little girl, her whole face lighting up with
pleasure; “we are going to make up a Christmas box for the folks at
home, and Milly says it must start soon to get there in time; the
journey is so long, you know. We bought some things in Philadelphia,
but hadn’t time to buy all we wanted.”
“May I ask what sort of things they were?” he queried in a playful
tone.
“Oh, yes, indeed, Cousin Horace. We bought gloves, handkerchiefs,
ribbons and laces for mother and the girls, neckties and handkerchiefs
for the boys and father, and some beautiful coral and gold armlets for
little Stuart Ormsby――Zillah’s baby, you know――and some lovely fine
white material for dresses for him; and beautiful needlework to trim
them with.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Mr. Dinsmore said; “and I should be very
glad to learn of some other things you and Mildred think would please
them, for Elsie and I must beg leave to have a share in this pleasant
business. Must we not, daughter?”
“Oh, yes, indeed,” she cried with enthusiasm; “it will be a very great
pleasure! I want to remember each one with some nice gift.”
“You are both very kind,” Annis answered with a pleased look. “We all
think at home there never were such kind relations as our Dinsmore
uncle and cousins.”
“My father is the soul of generosity,” Mr. Dinsmore remarked. “But
those to whom God has entrusted such abundant means as he has to Elsie
and myself, so that giving does not involve much, if any self-denial,
do not deserve any great amount of credit for it; especially when they
find it the most enjoyable way of using their money.”
Walk and riding lesson over, they returned to the house.
It was time to dress for dinner. That attended to, the little girls
sought the ladies in Mrs. Dinsmore’s boudoir, where they sat in dinner
dress but busied with their fancy work.
The gentlemen were there too, chatting with their wives and fondling
their baby boys.
The moment little Horace caught sight of his sister he held out his
arms to her with a crow of delight, for he was already very fond of
her.
Hastening to her father’s side, “O papa!” she said in her most coaxing
tones, “mayn’t I take him?”
“Sit down in that low chair, and I will put him on your lap,” he
answered.
“Oh, thank you, sir,” she said, gladly complying with the condition.
“Well, Annis,” said the doctor, “I hear you are in a fair way to
become an accomplished horsewoman.”
“In as fair a way as having the best of teachers can make me.”
“And a good little pony to learn on,” added Elsie.
“Yes, indeed,” assented Annis. “Mildred,” turning to her sister, “you
didn’t go shopping to-day?”
“No, we thought best to pay our calls first, and that took all the
morning. We hope, though, to shop to-morrow.”
“Cousin Horace, will you allow your pupils to have a share in the
shopping?” asked Annis half laughingly, turning to Mr. Dinsmore as she
spoke.
“If the lessons have first been recited correctly,” he replied.
“Mildred, will you allow me a share in that shopping?”
“Your company is always agreeable, Cousin Horace.”
“But he means more than that,” Annis said gleefully; “he and Elsie
want to buy things for our box too.”
“And so you told them about it? though I begged you not to do so,”
Mildred returned, reproachfully.
“You are not to blame her,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore, “it was no fault of
hers. I wormed it out of her. But I don’t see, Milly, why you should
wish to deprive us of the pleasure of taking part in such work?”
“Just because you and Elsie are both too generous, and must have
plenty of other uses for your money.”
“My dear little lady,” he answered smilingly, “are not we the best
judges of that?”
“Come, Milly, be generous and don’t try to keep your pleasure all to
yourself,” her husband said, standing by her side and looking down at
her with laughing, admiring eyes.
“I trust you don’t really think I need that admonition, my dear,” she
responded, lifting to his face eyes brimful of confiding affection.