The Old Stone House

first day of June,-and she could look back over more than half a century, with that mournful retrospec

prowling around the fold. Hugh and Sibyl, Tom and Grace, and, last of all, wild little Bessie from the southern hill-country,-this was her charge. Hugh and Sibyl Warrington were the children of an elder brother; Tom and Grace Morris the children of a sister, and Bessie Darrell the only child of Aunt Faith's youngest sister, who had been the pet of all

have tried hard to influence her. I believe she loves me; but there must be something wrong in my system, for now, at the end of ten years, I begin to fear that she is no better, if indeed, she is as good as she was when she first came to me, a child of six years. I must be greatly to blame; I must have erred in my duty. And yet, I have labored so earnestly!" Another tear stole down Aunt Faith's cheek as she thought of the heavy responsibility resting upon her life. "Shall I be able to answer to my brothers and sisters for all these little souls?" she mused. "There is Hugh also. Can I dare to think he is a true Christian? He is not an acknowledged soldier of the Cross; and, in spite of all the care and instruction that have been lavished upon him, what more can I truthfully say than that he is generous and brave? Can I disguise from myself his faults, his tendencies towards free-thinking, his gay idea of life,-ideas, which, in a great city, will surely lead him astray? No; I cannot! And yet he is the child of ma

sion. First, "Turk," the great Newfoundland dog, harnessed to a rattling wagon, in which sat "Grip," the mongrel, muffled in a shawl, his melancholy countenance encircled with a white ruffled cap; then came Tom, as driver, and behind him "Pete" the terrier, fastened by a long string, and dragging Miss Estella Camilla Wales, in her little go-cart, very much agai

eyes, and howled in blind dismay. In the midst of the confusion, Grace rescued Miss Wales from her perilous position, and, finding her classic nose still unbroken, laid her carefully in the crotch of a tree, and prepared for revenge. In his desire to secure the obedience of his dog-team, Tom had fastened them securely, by long cords, to his belt; Pete had already managed to wind his tether tightly around Tom's legs, and Grace incited Turk to rebellion, so that he, too, began to gambol about in his elephantine way, and Tom was soon tangled in another net. "I say, Grace, let the dogs alone, will you!" he said angrily, as he vainly tried to disentangle himself.

prits knew what was before them. That fence was a well-known penance,-for when they did anything wrong this was their punishment. Old Turk felt the touch of the switch first, and mounted heavily to his perch, his great legs curved inward to keep a footing on the narrow top; then came Pete, and, last of all, Grip, who, being a heavy-bodied cur, crouched himself down as low as he could, and crawled along with extreme caution. The fence was high, with a flat, horizontal top about four inches wide. It ran around three sides of the garden, and often, as Aunt Faith sat at her work in the sitting-room, the melancholy procession of dogs p

bill, and soon proved himself a terrier of manifold accomplishments,-the brightest and most mischievous member of the trio. All the dogs had been carefully trained by Tom. They could fetch and carry, lie down when they were bid

for fear of losing his balance, blinked out of the corner of his eye, as much as to say, "I wouldn't turn round if I could." "Pete Trone," said Tom gravely, "it is evident that this punishment is not severe enough for you; a dog that has time to wag his tail and yawn, cannot be in

her wagon, and made Pete draw her all over. It's a wonder her nose wasn't broken and her eyes knock

surely,

broken to pieces, and he said they were only dancing on a tight rope; he sent Rose and Lily,-the paper-dolls, you know,-up in the air tied to the tail of his kite; the rag-baby he took for a scarecrow over his garden; and surely,

fered so much. Take good care of Estella, and

as called from the thre

. E. M.,-ran off into

ng Aunt Faith

ion of an antique statue. Rare was her taste; no clashing colors or absurd puffs and furbelows were ever allowed to disfigure her graceful form, and thus her appearance always charmed the artistic eye, although many of her schoolmates called her "odd" and "quakerish." Sibyl had already obtained her little triumphs. An artist of world-wide fame had asked permission to paint her head in profile, as a study, and whenever she appeared at a party the strangers present were sure to inquire who she was, and follow her movements with admiring glances, although there were many eyes equally bright, and many forms equally graceful in the gay circle of Westerton society. But in spite of her beauty, Sibyl was not a general favorite; she had no intimate friends among her girl companions, and she never tried to draw around her a circle of admirers. She had no ambition to be "popular," as it is called, and she did not accept all the invitations that came to her as most young girls do; for, as she said, "occasionally it is better to be missed." Thus, in a small wa

; "he is a lazy white-headed egotist; a good judge of lace and ribbons, but mort

and Graham Marr, who was just twenty-one. Sibyl was eighteen, and self-possessed beyond her years; could it be that she really found anything to like in Graham Marr? Aunt Faith could not tell. As she sat on the piazza, looking down into the garden, the gate opened and a young man entered,-the Rev. John Leslie, a clergyman who had recently come to Westerton to take charge of a new church in the suburbs, a struggling little missionary chapel, where it required a large faith to see light ahead i

ed it instantly. To him the world was literally a harvest field, and he, one of the hard working laborers; he had no worldly ambition; he looked upon life with the eyes or a true Christian; his little chapel was as much to him as a large city church, influential and wealthy, could have been, as he loved his small and somewhat uninteresting congregation with his whole heart. Older men called him an enthusiast. Would that the world held more enthusiasts like him;

ns had been of service to him; for Sibyl possessed a talent for organization, and a ready tact quite unusual for one so young. And in this work she was no hypocrite; she enjoyed her conversations with Mr. Leslie, and looked forward to his visits with real pleasure. What wonder that he thought her a true child of God, an earnest Christian, a fellow-laborer in the vineyard? Sometimes, when Aunt Faith was present and heard Mr. Leslie's conversation, her old heart glowed within her breast, and she felt herself carried back to the ancient days when the young converts went about the world with ardent enthusiasm,

trifled with her health, her good looks were of serious importance to her, and she never hazarded them for the sake of

olding out his hand in cordial greeting; "we have come up to the sh

eplied Aunt Faith with a smile;

any, came from the opposite direction. I was afr

d Aunt Faith, with a shade of

e, but he met no answering glance; Sibyl was occupied in spreading out the folds of her skirt to counteract any possible injury from the dampness. "He does not doubt her sincerity in the least," thought Aun

the piazza; "that girl has made a brave battle with fate, and I have been trying to help her. Mis

school. She realizes the disadvantages of her own ignorance, and she feels a noble ambition to educate those orphan children. Her faith is great; it is like the faith of the primitive Christians who lived so near the times of the Lord Jesus, that, in their prayers, they asked for what they needed with childish confidence. It was her great faith which first drew me towards her; she was a regular attendant at the chapel service, and in the course of my visits, I went to see her in the little home she has made in the third story of a lodging house at South End. It was Saturday, and I saw t

are a comfort t

children in their lessons. And while I'm asking, some way a kind of peace comes over me, and although I may know there is not a crumb in the closet, or a cent in my purse, I always get up with a light heart. The Bible is tru

"I must try and help Margaret

the dusk of evening, a step sounded up the walk, and Graham Marr appeared. "Ah, good evening, ladies!" he said, in his languid voice.

byl, smiling. "Pray

to take leave. Then Sibyl stepped forward, and accompanied him part way down the gar

to keep up a conversation with the languid Mr. Marr; "does s

into an animated discussion of the last volume of poems, in whic

am afraid I do not appreciate modern poetry. I am behind the times, I suppose; but I re

est charm," said Graham Marr; "tru

nough to acknowledge my deficiencies, and, if you will excuse me, I wil

r comfort, and even lingered a moment to admire the shaded worsteds in her basket, before he returned to the piazza and Sibyl. Once back in the moonlight, however, the poetical conversation soon began agai

t an air of cosy comfort pervaded the whole, and the grounds seemed to be as full of chickens and ducks, cats and dogs, doves and sparrows, horses and cows, as the house was full of canary and mocking-birds, gold-fish, kittens, and plants, besides a large aquarium. Up from the back pasture, at this moment, two shadowy forms were

! we shall be discovered," she said

joke!" said Hugh, mou

ve had! And you ride

to-morrow night

if you can get

it is such fun! I like

d you are a dear goo

ook to it as a duck takes to water. What a glorious gallop we have

hing. "I do believe he is on the p

we extinguish him. Ou

ing a drama

be gone l

ill be waiting

ock up my riding skirt, and

e and the grove, and gave them to a man who was waiting near the fence: he led them down the narrow road towards the west

ring escapades in defiance of rule, and Aunt Faith's heart had ached with anxiety, when the truant returned home in disgrace. But her merry vivacity had made home so pleasant, that the seasons of penance were, as Tom said, "the jolliest of the year," and Gem openly hoped that Bessie would soon be expelled again. Poor Aunt Faith sometimes thought there must be a tinge of gypsy blood in Bessie's ancestors on the Darrell side of the house, for in no other

go when I please, ther

e, la

the fun, as you call it, consists in d

certainly have taken it. Now there was Miss Sykes at Corry Institute; she was always saying, 'Young ladies, it is against the rule to go into the garret. Three bad marks to any one who even opens the door.' That was enough for me; I slipped off my shoes and climbed up the stairs, while a crowd of girls

ly disobeyed he

into the garret because there was no flooring there? Then we would have understood the

sometimes be content to give up our wills to the gu

ome to me, Aunt Faith; Hugh says the

n a low voice, "I cannot bring myself to pray that you may learn the lesson of trust, for it is a

wing her arms around her aunt's neck, "of all your

child," said Aunt Fait

e back stairs and seated herself on the porch steps. In a

iding never tired me. You will

that takes me, Brow

eard him out of the front-hall window; so

rectly under the hal

arm-chairs, s

," said Hugh. So up they stole, and t

ry, so that the view of the piazza from the upper windows was uninterrupted. It was a pleasant piazza, fronting towards the south, overlooking the old-fashioned garden with its little box-bordered paths, and entirely cut off from the lake winds, which are apt to have an easterly sharp

ie, punning atrociously. "However, if my knowledge of Sibyl i

surprised. Not that I object at all, but m

on earth, because their husbands are always at home, brightening the d

ssie, wouldn't it be fine fun to throw the great red bla

et. But it was safely packed away in the bottom of a chest, and some search was necessary to bring it to

door after you!" said Hugh, coming

a box; "not one step do I go until I know what you're up to-s

Bessie, "or they might spoil the whole

em," said Tom,

sie, we won't s

I know myself. The blanket's very well, but the dogs are better, and Graham Marr is terribly afraid of 'em. I never liked him since he called me 'my lad,' and this will be a good chance to pay him

alled out Pete and Grip; Turk had a kennel of hi

like mad. You'd better slip round into the parlor and look through the blinds; it's dark there." Gem obeyed softly, and Tom disappeared around the corner of the house, followed by the dogs, who understood from their master's low o

evening by the light of the moon. "I never write by gas-light, Miss Warrington," he said, "but I keep pencil and paper at hand to transcribe the

Oh moon! in

cloud,-the

seething i

h moon! and

the heads of the two below, enveloping them in sudden darkness. At the same instant the three dogs plunged forward and pawed at the dar

, gazing at the struggling blan

wered Sibyl, extricating herself, and stepping out from the sti

r Graham, crawling out of the blanket.

ng to the rescue. "Grip, be quiet! Pete ge

n the point of making my adieu when,-when the children played their little joke. Ha!-ha

she said, in a severe tone, "I am ashamed of you! Such pranks are

elf," said Aunt Faith. But still no reply. Then she call

om, "I am very sorry the children were so rude. I

ete has torn off part of the trimming of my skirt; I will mend it before I go to bed. Good-

spered Hugh to Bessie, as, after watching this scene fr

en seemed to be unusually sound asleep; the lights were all out, and Tom

wide awake, and know you were all in that blanket-and-dog affair." A burst of stifled laughter greeted