, 1886-09-08

found that she must go away, though no
body knew exactly where. She had
tried 30 hard to run errands quickly and
to wait upon every one, since she had
felt better and had begun to miss her
aunt a little less and not to cry about
her quite 30 much. She was a silent.
grave little child and old for her years.
She hoped if she were very good and
gave no trouble that Sister Helen would
let her stay. 1t was, indeed. a great
sorrow when she was told about the
country week visit. They said 1t would
only be a week. and yet Peggy cried
herself to sleep that night. She was to
go on Saturday. and Sister Helen was
going to axe her to the train; but Peggy
could not bear to see children go by on
| the street when she looked out OF the
hospital window. They were all going
home; they had brothers and sisters, she
was sure. Nobody guessed in those
days how sad this little heart was grow
ing. 1t would have made the tears come
quick to all our eyes if we had known
her and had seen the poor child sitting
alone on a wide red seat in the cars,
bound on her solitary journey. We are
30 glad that we know already something
about Miss Ann Dunning.
Ill.
Only two business men and Peggy
herself were landed by the train at the
Littletown station; but all the idlers in
the village were there to look at them.
The brakeman, to whom Sister Helen
had spoken about Peggy, helped her
down the car steps very kindly into the
middle of the awesome crowd. Then
Miss Dunning, who wa waiting, too,
pushed her way eagerly forward to say:
This must be the little girl that has
come to make me a VISIT and tired, be-
wildered Peggy looked up with brim-
ming eyes into the homely, pleasant
face. n said:
Yes, please" without a doubt OIL
fear.
Il liked her the minute l saw her."
Miss Dunning whispered to everybody
he next day, going and coming from
church with Peggy fast held by the
hand. @She's so handy and sensible I
don't know as 1 ever shall send her
back. She's got no folks. Come hero
from the hospital"
And again:
You'd never take her to be a 9-year-
old. She's forever a-watchin' me to try
and get what l want and save steps. She
set the table as handy as could be last
night, two hours after she come-when
/ was busy cuttin' and bastin' for Miss
Farley. You know she was called away
to stay with her mother, and has ended
up her school?r
After such a promising beginning we
need not be surprised that arrangements
were made for Peggy's further continu-
ance. And here again were solitary set
in families-Miss Dunning, the busy
village d~ressmaker; Peggy, the lonely
child who chung to the new friend with
double affection, because the little house
was in a way 70 much like the two
rooms in which she and her elderly
aunt had lived together. What could
have been more fitting thar their being
housemates?
Miss Dunning did not prosper the less
though money was not too plenty in a
village where there was a younger and
more fashionable person busy at her
trade, and almost every one of her CUE
tonici5 iidu very lew uItbStS, anu ndu6
them herself after good Miss Dunning
had cut and basted them. But h had
some good, generous friends, and at any
rate never once thought about Peggy, as
she did sometimes about the garden
seeds, that she vas ashamed to look the
contribution box in the face. This
brings me back again to the garden.
There was one pleasant June evening
just after Peggy camel know that it
had not yet been decided that the visit was
to last any more han a week-when the
new friends were busy together among
the fower-beds. Miss Dunning was
right in saying cheerfully that this was
a good growing year; flowers and weeds
alike were springing up as close together
as they could, and just before it was
dark the good woman told her little
guest that she might take the old hoe
n wage war against a velvety growth
of seedlings that spread from one side Of
the path nearly 10 the other. Nobody
had taken the time to attend to the dis
orderly narrow path, there had peer SO
much to do with transplanting and more
important things. Peggy's eyes had
shone at her first glimpse of the garden
on Sunday morning, and she was prov
ing herself a most apt scholar under
Miss Dunning's instructions. She had
seen the somewhat neglected hospital
garden a few times before she left town,
and already knew the names of many
plants.
She looked up in unmistakable dismay
when Miss Dunning spoke; but h went
dutifully to the side of the doorstep and
brought the hoe; then she stood still and
looked down at the green bit of seeding
carpet.
Hurry up. Peggyir said brisk Miss
Dunning. Its getting dark, and we
Amt near through with what l set my
self to do tonight" -.- -.-.
DO you want me to kill them ALP
whispered Peggy. did you see that
they weren't weeds. / could find nice
little places over there by the fence"
Mercy mel" exclaimed Miss Dunning,
with great amazement. I'VE can't save
every sprout in she garden. l do have
. feelin' for 'em sometimes, but we
might just ~ well let EN- grow up into
. wilderness at .once.D . j. - .-..
.They would all bloom and be flowers,
wouldn't they7" asked Peggy. timidly.
Perhaps the poor child felt as If she had
been saved out. of just such a crowd that
nobody seemed TO want. II wish 1 could
put them in little boxes and take them
back to Boston. They would grow, and
be 30 pretty in the hospital"
She spoke as If she were asking the
greatest favor in the world.
I'm give you better things than these"
said Mrs. Dunning, with a sudden feel
ing OF desperate jealousy at the mere