Year: 1868

y
a rough man. He lived ON rough,
rocky farm, on a rough, rugged noun
tain side in Pennsylvania. But though
his farm was rough, it had many bright,
smooth things about it, that made it very
beautiful to his eyes and those of his
tidy, rosy checked little wife, Mary, who
kept his rough log house as neat as apin
the year round


There were smooth, sunny spots on the
hillsides, where the grass grew very
green, and where the wheat yielded as
many bushels to the acre as did the lands
of the neighbors who lived in the val
leys of the Susquehanna where potatoes
grew large, rich and mealy; and, if you
had asked Old Spud, his crop-eared
horse, that plowed the ground for the
planting, he would have said, if he could
have talked at all, that never were sweet
er oats grown in the wide world. There
was pretty stream of water, too, that
came out of the mountoin side, under a
great rock, and danced down to the very
door of Farmer Grey's home, made a
dozen little waterfalls leaping over the
obstacles that came in its way, and pour
ed itself with a purring song into deep
spring, which the farmer had walled up
for it and then, as if it felt little so
bered at being caught, it rippled over the
top into little pond just below, where
Old Spud went to drink morn, noon and
night, where the green headed ducks
quacked their joy, and the old gray
goose swan every spring with her gos-
lings.


Thus, you see, although it was a rough
farm, it had its smooth places and so
had Farmer Grey's rough ways. He
loved his farm, and his wife, and his two
pretty children, that were his Joy and
pride. Arthur was a noble fellow of ten
years, and could ride Old Spud to plow
for the corn and potatoes and bring in
the sheep at night to keep them safe from
mischievous dogs, and do great many
little chores. That pleased his father,
and he would pat him on his curly head,
and say You'll be good for something
some day. Guess yon are worth the
raising"


Ella, the sister, was only eight. Not
SO large as a six-yearold girl should be
She was not healthy and strong; and i
did not seem that she was loved as wei
as Arthur, although she needed to be fal
more than he did-for she was tender
and loving herself, and he did not care;
bit about it.


One day, Farmer Grey came home tc
dinner very tired for it was UNUSUAL.
warm, and he had worked hard. Ell;
was sitting by the spring, eating he
bread and milk, feeding the kitty on on
side and throwing little crumbs to til
ducks on the other. Her father cam
and lay down on the grass by her side
watching her with dreamy eyes.


"Papa, what makes you work s
hard?" asked little Ella.


Have to work to keep you in brea
and milk"


"But old Brindle gives me milk.


cold Brindle would starve, if | didn
plow and make the grass grow.


Ella got up, and came to her fathel
and put her little arms around his necl
and said:


Papa, when l get big and strong,
will help you and you shan't work
hard just for me-"


She rough man was touched by he
gentle tenderness but he did not kno
lust what to say, so his answermade Ell
very sad indeed.


"You can't do anything. You're
little girl; and little girls arent worth
cent. There's Bub, he can ride horse
Old Spud can plow, Brindle gives mill
we will kill the ducks one of these fiji
days for dinner, and the geese gives
feathers for beds, and the sheep wool #
clothes the little brook is not idle eth


but brings mamma water for the dinn


not and tea kettle But little girls a
only good to eat bread and milk al


make their papas work"


"And Pussy?" said little Ella,
most choking with emotion. She thoug


Puss as useless as herself, and that W


some comfort.