Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag, Vol. 5

d lovely child, whose journey interested many other children, and is stil

ight, for everything was so small and complete it looked as if a doll was setting off for Europe. Such a wee dressing-case, with bits of combs and brushes for the curly head; such a cosey scarlet wrapper for the small woman to wear in her berth,

be, and the sound of the cheery little voice, as sweet as the chirp of a bird, especially when she sung the funny song about the

er very much, so did the queer language and ways of the Portuguese people round her, especially the very droll names given to the hens of a young friend. The biddies seemed to speak the same dialect as at home, but evid

. It was kept by some kind ladies, and twenty-five girls were taught and cared for in the big, bare place, that looked rat

dolls, with ravelled twine for hair, faces rudely drawn on the cloth, and funny boots on the shapeless legs. No other toys appeared, but the girls sat on the floor of the great stone room,-for there was no furniture,-playing contentedly

xplain in English their wish to be polite to their distinguished guest. Like the little gentlewoman she was, Annie graciously accepted t

creature she yearned to give of her abundance to "all the poor orphans who didn't have any nice dollies." She had several pets of her own, but not enough to go round even if she sacrificed them, so kind grandmamma, who had bee

of gay bits of silk, cloth, and flannel, and a present of money for books, were sent out to the convent by the ladies. A treat of little cheeses f

ll the better for the trip, and Annie so full of tales to tell that it was a never-failing source of amusem

yal. A letter of thanks soon came back from the teacher, telling how surprised and delighted the girls were, and how they talked of Annie as if she w

ded no preparation but a little white gown, a coverlet of flowers, and the casket where the treasure of many hearts was tenderly laid away. All alone, but not afraid, little Annie crossed the unknown sea that rolls b

now no happy voice to wake them into life; and far away in the convent of San Antonio the orphans carefully keep their pretty gifts in memory of the sweet giver. To them she is a saint now, not a fairy princess; for when they heard of her death they asked if they might pray

Englishman who came to America to try his fortune, but did not find it; for, when Maggie was three months old, the great Chicago fir

asy matter to get a five-years' child across the Atlantic, for the aunt could not come to fetch her, and no one whom she knew was going over. But Maggie had found friends in C

hild to England in charge of the captain of a steamer, trusting

e delighted her darling, had she been here to know of it. Laid tenderly away were many small garments belonging to the other little pilgrim, whose

sleeper under the snow. Perhaps something of her loving nature lingered about the clothes, and helped to keep

ened on the corner, and a similar paper recommending her to the protection of all kind people, was sewed to the bosom of her frock. Then, not in the least realizi

as if for a day's visit; and it is a comfort to know that before the train started, the persons who took her there

plied with toys and comforts for the voyage, and placed in charge of captain and stewardess. She sailed on the 3d

of the steamer wanted to see the adventurous young lady who had come so far alone, and neighbors and strangers made quite a lion of her, for all kindly hearts were interested, a

ive eyes, and a pair of stout little feet crossed one over the other as if glad to rest. I wish I could put the photograph into the story, because the small heroine

appy in a good home, I always fancy that (if such things may be) in the land which i