Gypsy's Cousin Joy

s,

n't, e

ust as we

in this old country place all your life, and you do

ite chenille and silver pins, when anybody's in such

of myself, if yo

w another

A whole

ve heard more'n one person say so. All the girls think you're

u either. I guess I'll be glad when fathe

ut her throat and hair, turned herself about before the glass with a last complacent look, and walk

ly important matter to quarrel about-a piece of white chenille! Angry people, be it remember

elling of them. The front side of the bed, the upper drawer in the bureau, a hair-ribbon, who should be helped first at the table, who was the best scholar, which was the more stylish color, d

er has adopted an orphan, or taken charge of a missionary's daughter, or in some way or other have been brought for the first time in your life into daily and hourly collision with anothe

t, I am ver

every week seemed to make them worse. Wherein lay the trouble, and how t

d which threatened to make the breach between Gypsy and Joy of a very serious nature. It

y responsible for Gypsy's training, and gave her good advice, double measure, pressed down and running over. One morning it chanced that Gypsy was playing "stick-knife" wi

a Brey

ll challenge Gypsy to a d

?" she said, none

g to say to you,

d not stir an inch. Distance certainly lent encha

to play boys' games with boys, right out

ded Gypsy. "It's

ton, you're a romp. You're nothing

Surly. For reasons best known to herself, Mrs. Surly shut the

oreover, having been reproved by her aunt for something or other that

he said. "I wouldn't be seen play

she had said it. Then there followed a highly interesting dialogue of about fiv

turned over plan after plan in her mind, to find something pleasant she could do

e Maythorne's. I do believe I haven't take

aythorne?" ask

rson I love just ab

of any

those. Relations don't count. But I do love her as well as anyb

a woman, or a

angel,"

goose

the wings every time I see her. She has the sweetest little way of keep

ve a good mind to

rig

pleasant as a summer's

y," said Joy, doubtingly. "They preach. Does Peac

ow what you're talking about, if you're goin

ad off. Well, if she should pr

ewalk of Yorkbury, whereon the young people did their promenading after school in the afternoon. Joy always fancied coming here, gay in her whit

Gypsy had turned away from the fashionable street

ce Mayt

is

is

clean; the houses unpainted and low. As they walked on it grew

thing. Red-faced women in ragged dresses began to cluster on the steps; muddy-faced children screamed and quarreled in

u stopping f

where s

er

'n' she lies down pretty much. That's her room up there to the top of the house. It's a real nice place, I tell you. They have onions mos' every day. Besides, I saw a li

ipple!" ex

Gypsy, in a queer tone, lo

ing such a trick on me. Do you suppose I'm going into such

gry, too angry to speak, she always turned white.

ch things of Peace Maythorne? Joy Breynton, I'll n

silent, on whose lips are kindly words, in whose hands are patient, kindly deeds, whose eyes see "good in everything," something to love where love is hardest, some generous, gentle way to show that love when ways seem closed. In your heart, too, away down in its darkest corner, all forgotten, perhaps, by you, crouches something with face too black to look upon, s

of the miserable house, up the stairs two steps at a time, to the do

ace May

d her pale face to the door, her l

! What is t

loudly, and sat down on the bed with a jar that shook it all

Peace?" Gypsy slipped down upon the floor, the color coming into her face now, from

t up here; I like to have y

of the fresh, young life from which the cripple was forever shut out. It told, too, what Gypsy found in this quiet room, and took away from it-all the help and the comfort, and the sweet, sad lessons. It told, besides, much of what Peace a

ay, her face angry and flush

and that's the thing of it! It

yp

help it-I

yp

fell at the

way. You don't know what Joy said. It's something about you,

" interrup

uldn't tell it to you for all the world; it's so ba

he had let the cat out of

s never seen me, doesn't know me, you must remember, Gyp

d think I should strike her when she said it. I can't bear Joy. You don't know what she is, Peace. Sh

tly. Peace rarely gave to any one as mu

al horrid and wicked, and do ugly things. Bu

tter with you and Joy

and day out, and I'm tired to death of it. I'm just crazy for the time for J

the best she would, she could not look altogether as if her heart were breaking from the am

I am. I never can make anybody believe it, though.

otten someth

ten som

u read me once ou

Gypsy, beginnin

up her Bible that lay on the bed beside her-it always lay on the bed-and turned the leaves,

ne. I-never could-i

oor. Gypsy went to open it, and stood

come home," began Joy, somewhat embarrassed. "She

sy, still standing with

r cousin?" s

ot. This is Peac

aid Peace in her pleasant

ad told Peace what she said. But Peace was so cordial, her voice so quiet, and her eyes so kind, that she con

s as neat as fresh wax, and the sunlight, that somehow or other always sought that room the earliest, and left it the latest-the warm, shimmering sunlight

unt came very near taking a room on the north side. Sometimes I really don't know w

hought they could by no means have explained; they wondered if in those few words did not lie the key to Pe

l at once, "Peace Maythorne wa

one of my business," said Peace, laughing. "I didn't

," wondering for the second time if Peace could know what she

will," said Gypsy,

asked Joy, as they rose to go, wit

but then I

ng by the table on which was a plate containing a cold potato, a broken piece of bread, and a

hungry," said P

meat, for yo

his," said Peace, look

y, then stooped and whispe

mson. "Oh, no, she never told me not to. She m

uch, and that was the reason you didn't," excla

please

ular shoulders and a sharp chin. She looked like a New England woman who had worked hard all her life and had much trouble, so much that s

, when she had introduced Joy, and said good-afternoon. "She'l

nothing very fine in the way of victuals I can get her, working as I work for two, and most beat out every night.

less-a dragon that doesn't scold particularly, but a dragon that looks. I'd rather be scolded to death than l

her down things?" asked

quantity of books and flowers and things, and dinner just as often as she

said Joy-"real. What pretty eyes she has. I

de you c

e," sa

e had out of her. But that first time was by no

rybody else, as is usually the case when one is just over a fit of ill-temper. When they wer

on the table. Joy was sitting up in her white night-dress, tu