The Lambertville press. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1858-1???, 1859-08-11
gg( iscRll u nenl 1t s.
Go back Rose, you're too little to come
BY ELLEN LOUISA CHANDLER.

There were three of us-Kate, Annette, and
mysef-and we were going into the old wood to
hunt for Strawberries Oh it was such de-
lightful day in June The birds sang till the air
was fairly vocal with their melody, and all the
green trees nodded their heads in appreciation
| The very brook seemed to have caught the gen.
eral inspiration, and danced along through the
meadows as if keeping time to a quickstep of
the FAIRIES.
Annette Summers and ] had been invited to
spend the half holidays with our schoonfate Kate
Harrington. Deacon Harringtons old-fash-
toned, brown house, fronted toward the South
Behind it stretched broad green meadow, and
still farther back was a deDsely wooded activity,
famous for flowers and berries in the geography
of every child in Ryefeld. I used to love to
look at Deacon Harrington's old brown house.
even in those early days, when had not sin
gle well defined notion of artistic stastesin my
curly head. know now that it combined, to an
eminent degree, the elements of the picturesque.
The low roof which sloped backward nearly
to the ground, was gray with moss Ivy crept
about the windows, and over the rustic porch
had twined climbing roses, along with heavy
clusters of trumpet creeper. aIH
There was a rude seat at the doorway, made
of the little boughs Of the white birch, twisted
together in fantastic fashion, and here grand
mother Harrington was wontto sit with her gray
wooden knitting work. Oh what a treat we
used to think it to spend half holiday with Kate
Harrington.
II wish Iwere you, Kate" exclaimed An
nette after we had spent half the long summer
afternoon chasing butterflies, and arranging a
vegetable playhouse, with hollyhocks for your
ladies' parasols, and tea-pots manufactured out
of veritabIe poppy pods. II wish were you,
and then I could be happy all day long, with
nothing to trouble me-"
q You could, could you ?" and Hates cheeks
flushed, as she put away from them her heavy
band of black hair You think so, and that's
all you know about it. Ihave a thousand things
to vex me- There's Rose for instance Moth
er expects me to be constantly taking care of
her, and she's the greatest little torment you
ever saw. BY the way, girls let's start after
those Strawberries in the wood, now she's out of
sight for minute, so she wont tease to go with
us !"
We were just about halfway across the mea-
dow, when we heard a sweet voice crying:
please, sister Kate Rose wants to go
toon
| turned round, remember, and thought how
beautiful was the little creature coming towards
u.s. She was very unlike her sister Kate. Kate
was brunette, but the little white robed figure
tripping across the meadow had pale, spiritual
face, and long curls of golden hair falling to her
tiny waist There was flush on her cheek, and
look of eager, beseeching interest in her large,
blue eyes; and she stretched her dimpled arms
toward us, and kept crying in her earnestness:
"P'ease, girls, wait for Rose" N'a9
A look of vexation crossed Kate's face, and
she called out in a tone of extreme irritability :
Go back, Rose; you're too little to como
Go back go back !"
Kate always had a way of being minded and
the little one put her fingers to her eyes, ana
silently turned toward the house. We hurried
on in the direction Of the wood, without giving
single glance backward. think Hates con-
science reproached her for her selfshness, and
know my own pleasure was spoiled for the after
noon We found plenty of Strawberries, red and
ripe among their bed of leaves. There were lit
tie blue-eyed blossoms, too, that kept reminding
me Of Rosie, and was not sorry when the SUM-
set shadows heightened, and we turned to sc
home. f# sss M ~
We had gone down the hill out of the WOOD
and crossed several rods of the meadow land
when Kate said, in hoarse whisper: SEE
there. Girls, what is that white thing by the
brook !? Do you see it ~
We saw it, and hurried toward it. aItiwas
Rose. At first we thought she was dead
Scarcely seemed the faintest breath to steal from
her parted lips, and the pulsations OF her hear