Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1901-06-21

and Annie MacFarlane was no eXcep-
ton to the rule; but then, she was the
fortunate possessor of a grandmother
who could tell the most charming Sto-
ries in the world OF these Annie's
favorite was a really, truly, live story
that had happened to grandmother
herself when she was a little girl. An
ME called it the Lydia Tree Story"
and twice a year, for a few days at
Christmas and a for a good long time
in summer, when she went to visit her
grandmother, they began at once with
poor Lydia.
Haven't heard anything from Lydia
Tree yet, have you, grandmother"
Annie would call from the carriage
door.
And grandmother always shook her
head and smiled, it seemed little
sadly, as she said: Nothing yet, my
dear"
This was the story:
When grandmother was little bit
Of girl she did not have as many
playthings as little girls have now,
and the few she had were so plain and
homemade that the children of to-day
would consider them very poor affairs
indeed; but to grandmother they were
simply beautiful. never having
dreamed of anything any finer than
her simple toys, it never occurred to
her that they could be thought ugly
or ridiculous.
nt.of, Il lYYof, J., or. 1ar fro m
not far from the city of Boston. AS
she was the only little girl in the fam
ily, she was greatly petted by every
one. In the long winter Evenings,
when there was little TO do, some Of
the farm hands who were clever with
their pen-knives used to employ their
skill in whiting out toys for grand
mother.
Sometimes they were rough block
houses that came apart, which you
fitted together puzzle fashion. Some
times they were curious trick boxes
made of countless small pieces of wood,
which only those who were admitted
to the secret could open. Sometimes
they were wooden chains made of
small links which had been cut from
long strip of wood, which grand
mother thought made beautiful neck
laces. Poor grandmother! You see
this was long ago and she didn't know
any better.
But the toy of toys whicn had sim
ply filled her little heart with rapture
was-what do you suppose?-a white
birch doll. Can you fancy such
thing?
It's head was made of knot of white
birch wood upon which eyes. nose and
mouth had been painted with yellow
paint. 1t had little blue calico sun
bonnet, from under which hung two
long yellow braids made of braided
silk. 1t had a blue calico dress like
the sunbonnet. Its sleeves were
stuffed with rags for arms, and it had
two little pieces of wood for hands.
Legs it had none; but then its dress
was very long, and grandmother never
missed them.
1t must be that little girls who are
intended to grow up into good grand
mothers have grandmothers' hearts
from the first. When this beautiful
doll was given to grandmother, she
took it without word, and simply
sank down on the floor and hugged it
to her small breast with a rapture
which made her speechless.
Haven't you a word of thanks to
give John, my dear?" said grand
mothers father. He wished his little
daughter to grow up well-mannered
and not to be ungrateful. Grand
mother simply could not speak, but
she looked at John with such beaming
eyes that he understood.
That's all right, little 'un," he
said, as he gave her brown hand pat.
John must have had grandmothers
heart.
Grandmother does not remember
how the doll came to be called Lydia
Tree; but Lydia Tree she was from
the first. Never-until the terrible
day which we are coming to-was
grandmother separated from Lydia
Tree day or night From that day she
forgot to be lonely or to feel sorry that
there We're no little girls with whom
she could play. Lydia Tree filed all
the empty places in her heart.
What secrets they shared What
plans they made! And they played
together so happily! Lydia Tree was
always thinking of new games-that
is, grandmother pretended that it was
Ldyia Tree who thought of them.
One day in the early summer il hap
pened that there was great deal of
work 10 be done for some reason or
other, so grandmother was told to
take Lydia Tree and so out and play
in the front yard. where they wouldn't
be under peoples feet"
So they went out and sat beside the
horse-block, as it was called, for it
was the place where the wagons al
ways stopped and where people
mounted their horses. The horse
block was the stump OF an old tree
with a smoothly planed top, which
made the most beautiful place in the