St. Landry democrat., 1883-06-30
Annie's H0mesickness.

| AHuItS HOUltSlckueSSs
Annie was "most FIVE old years" as
she would tell you, and could not re-
member ever having been from home
over night.
Since Rosie Cary's visit in New York
Annie's greatest desire had been to 60
away, like Rosie, for a whole week.
| 1t was no comfort when mamma told
her that three years before she had
spent several weeks at grandmamma's,
| for, as Annie said, she ''was most
baby then, and babies hasn't no merem-
| bern
But now, this very morning Papa
| Karl was to take mamma and Annie
out to Uncle Franks farm for the
| longed-for week.
| Almost before Annie realized that this
could be- true the dainty new dress was
on, breakfast was eaten and the ears
were bearing them swiftly to Groton
Station, where black Thomas met them
with carriage and horses.
And when they came to the great
farmhouse there was Uncle Frank and
Auntie May on the piazza, with Nell.
who was just twice Annie's age, and the
six-year-old twins, Laura and Lena.
Such long, happy day as it was!
There were the dear little baby chick
ems, the mother hens and funny roosters
to feed, the waddling, quacking ducks,
the horses, cows and the pigs, that
rather frightened Annie, with their
grunting and squealing.
down to their pretty bough-house by the
brook-side.
Here they kept house with their dolls.
And instead of q commonplace city
doll-carriage, there was the cunningest
little boat just large enough for Rosa
mund, Rosalie and Claribel. In this
the three dolls, carefully seated. ioated
far down the stream and were then
drawn back by a string fastened to the
bow of the boat.
But the beautiful day came to an end.
as all things do, and after supper all
sat on the broad piazza in the gather
ing twilight, Annie sitting on low has
sock at her mammals side, quite still.
..My little grille is tired thought
mamma, sand shall go to rest soon .
Then the older folks began telling sto.
ries of by-gone days, and no one noticed
when Annie crept back to the deserted
sitting-room, nor missed her till a stitied
sobbing was heard issuing from the
darkness. Half-frightened, they ran in
to find in the big rocking-chair a little
round heap battling with great storm
of sobs.
'.Annie, darling, what is the matter?,
cried Mrs. Karl, alarmed.
g want to 90 to we's house! want
RI, <ro ff, hp,,cotf3 oo,,,r, f,.,,,1 n
ma S Unfolding arms.
why, Annie!'' laughed papa, sis
this the little girl who coaxed and
coaxed to go away for a long week. and
was even willing to go without papa
and mammal
g But want my we's house now! Oh,
/ want to go to we's house!'' sobbed
Annie.
Wise mamma did not attempt to rea-
son, but cuddling the fearful face against
her own, in old baby-fashion, crooned a
low lullaby, till far away in slumber-
land little Annie found forgetfulness,
and perhaps .swe's house,
The next morning, in the bright sun
shine, Annie was her happy, merry little
self again. And the week passed quickly
and pleasantly.
When the final good-byes were said,
Annie could scarcely keep the tears
back.
But that afternoon, from Annie's little
play-room at home, mamma overheard
the following conversation.
II had the most splenderest time.
Wosie Cawy, an my Unkel Fank's got
evy thing I guess-ducks an hens an
shickens- little baby shickens, wivfur an
not any feVvers an big horses an little
horses on tall legs
"Oh myp' said wondering Rosie.
But" resumed Annie, in low tone,
as if imparting a deep secret, 9 know
sumfin else, Wosiana Cawy-sumfin
betterer than shickens an bwooks. an
dollies' boats an horses an, an, an,
anyfin! There amt ever no6in so beau
tifuller as aUe's house !t''-Y YOUTHS Com
panioas.