Gypsy's Cousin Joy

t, and December swept into its place with a good rousing snow-storm, merry sleigh-bells, and bright promises of coming Christmas. The girls coasted and skated, and made snow-men and snowball

to make an effort to live together more happily. In some degree they succeeded, but they were like people walking over a volcano; the trouble was not quenched; it lay always smoldering out of sight, ready at a moment's notice to flare up into angry flame. The fault lay perhaps no more with one than another. Gypsy had never had a sister, and her brothers were neither of them near enough to her own age to interfere very much with her wishes and privileges. Moreover, a brother, though he may be the greatest tease in

er Mrs. Breynton's control, was decidedly a revelation to her. At her own home, it had always been said, from the time she was a baby, that her mother could not manage her, and her father would

g that sadder and better side of Joy's

ting a letter to her father, when a gust of wind took the sheet and blew it to Gypsy's feet. Gypsy picked it up to carry it to her, and in doing so, her eyes fell accidentally on some large, legible words

ed Joy's own version of the morning's dispute. Gypsy was vexed. She liked her uncle, and s

r to Joy with

't help seeing that about me. I don't think you've any bu

t down on the cricket for one of her merry talks with her mother. After she had told her how many times she missed at school that day, what a funny tumble Sarah Rowe had on the ice, and laughed over "Winnie's la

tle mother you are! What

hat should she do without you

peering out at them from behind the curtain, its great eyes swimmi

er. She found her crouched upstairs in the dark and cold, sobb

me,

ringing her triumphantly downstairs, where were the lights and the fire,

pied with the little gifts they intended to make themselves; and herein lay a difficulty. Joy's father always supplied her bountifully with spending money; Gypsy's stock was small. When Joy wanted to make a present, she had only to ask for a few extra dollars,

h handsomer Joy's

How could she help it? And Joy, perhaps-possibly-Joy was thi

a. (Tom's conceptions of the feminine race, their apparel, occupations and implements, were bounded by tape and alpaca.) So Tom was provided for; the watch-case was nearly made, and bade fair to be quite as pretty as anything Joy could buy. Winnie was easily suited, and her father would be as contented with a shaving-case as with a velvet dressing-gow

ay she wanted them ever so much. I'm going to get the best copy I can find, with gold edges. If uncle hasn't a nice one in his store, I'll

uneasy that Joy should give so handsome a present. She sat looking at her silently, and while she looked, a curi

ece bent back to serve as support. The frame was covered with putty, and into the putty she fastened her shells. They were of different sizes, shapes, and colors, and she was laying them on in a

ume of blue and gold-Whittier's poems, and written on the fly-leaf, in Joy'

word 'n' honor, certain true, black and blue, he wouldn't let A

said Gyps

think you see

ime that dull, curious pain had crept into her heart. What did it

's cheeks for shame at the thou

came in, flushing a little. Gypsy sat down in her favorite place on the bed, just where she could see the cripple's great quiet eyes-she always liked to watch Pea

aid Gypsy, "you've b

aunt, you know. A little

ou know you never sew a stitch but you lie a

contradict her

ughtn't to let you touch it. She hasn't any more f

my best days come and I can; I had, really, Gypsy. You don't know how it hurts me-a great deal more than t

de Gypsy feel worse than she felt to see her sew

l for an aunt; no, I will say it, Peace, and you needn't look at

, long ago, I made a mat out of ends of worsted I found, and it didn't hurt me hardly any; o

u must do anything? It's ten thousand times easie

" said Peace, coloring; and

ery soon after she bade Pe

mother away alone, and tol

I've thought

el

say no, if

to; if it is a

?" said Gypsy, demurely. "I prefer not to b

t what's

Miss Jane Maythor

that

cut off her head before she lets Peace sew. But you se

what

u see. But I can give her some worsteds for a Christmas present, and she can ma

is a very good plan. I think Joy would like to join you.

t it," said Gypsy, with a decision in

, Gy

splendid presents, and makes me ashamed of all mine, and she's glad o

eace. She would enjoy giving her somethin

ongs to me. It would spoil it all to

aid her mother; "you alone cannot g

y, resolutely, "I want to

thing, and Gypsy went

ur after, when they were all sitting together. Mrs. Breynton rais

d to laugh and plague and scold her into talking, but it was o

to give something

jumping up in bed to

the plan, a little slo

not given to detecting things with remarkable quickness,

you want me to

ying to speak cordially,

he felt. She went to slee

of money would just about buy the crochet-needles and patterns. The worsteds cost

eing that she was disappointed. So then there came a little

makes my part the largest. Besides, the worsteds look the pr

So as Joy sat fingering the pile of elegant worsteds, twining the brilliant, soft folds of orange, and crimson, and royal purple, and soft, wood-browns about her hands, it cost her a bit of a struggle to sa

'd rather not. It isn't really half of it mine, and I

t a great happiness in its place (for great happiness springs out of very little battles and victories),-a memory of Peace Maythorne's verse. Th

out of the house in her characteristic style, as if she were running for her l

e, what's your

you're in! Sit down

o know what your favorite verse

st for that? How quee

ough the window, but seeming to see nothing-away somew

ut, perhaps-I think I like this. Yes, I t

page of her Bible that lay o

tants shall not

stooped and kissed Pe

int box, all the spare time she could find. On Christmas Eve she went down jus

he wakes up in the morning. Could you please to fasten it up on the wall just oppo

hat Gypsy held out to her, and held it up in the

rofessional artist. The letters were of that exquisite shade known by the artists as smalt blue, edged heavily

tants shall not

rather worn out with work to lie awake waitin' till she is. But then, if you want to

r coming holiday; or perhaps the mournful, longing words

to the full, in the hanging up of stockings, the peering out into the dark to see Santa Claus come down the chimney (perfectly conscious that that gentleman is the most transparent of hoaxes, but with a sort of faith in him all the while; we

ced, as she stood brushing out her bright, black

oo," said Joy. "I was going to

e the sun danc

r was awake all nigh

tty near it once, but I somehow

was

t clear over to the Kleiner Berg Basi

u d

s were up at the barn, and so I floated off, and

of my seventeen senses," said Joy, c

od. See here, Joy, if you find me g

with alacrity. "I sha

head over on the pillow with a whisk, and opening h

oy

ans

ou're g

ned over with

just as wide awa

er si

yp

y ju

going to

g," said Gypsy, sitting

morning," said Joy, in a to

say we'd been in bed jus

by dint of great exertion

o lie awake. It's

eople that sit up all

would be a good

now anythi

'm sure

nce

Breyn

-el

e just as well if I-shu

f it. Just about an hour and a half after, Gypsy heard a noise, and was

re you

into the water. They say i

we haven't talked mu

t I wouldn't

attempt to answer, bu

a cocoa-nut shell; it was really a very remarkable impression, considering that she had been broad awake ever since she came to bed. As soon as her eye

ypsy Br

ha

you up t

o keep awake.

th chatter. Isn't

know but I might a

uest Oliver Cromwell to have mercy on her, and was about preparing to jump out of the coco

th a tinge in her voice of something th

eir lovers go to Europe, and they have a real nice time. Only it's most always moonlight, an

blic, it was a very charming dream, and she felt decidedly cross, whe

stmas! Merr

ing for? That's no fair. It is

the clock strike six ever so long

's morning. You can

do it twice for you your last turn, and

umble for the matches. All at once Gy

s the

pped over-every sin

egan to

; "I'm frozen almost to death, and this h

d, to see Joy crouched shivering before the stove-door, blowing away f

ork any more over it. It may go out if

d a while, and died out, and shot up again, and at last

't wake up mother. Joy, don't it strike you

n't k

he entry clock; you'r

pened the door softly, and ran out. She came back in

y Bre

ha

er forgi

s the m

nty-five minut

ng laugh. Joy could neve

ble funny, and I guess you wou

you shivering and blowing away at i

l mean in you to wa

strike six as much as cou

ut the story of that memorab

at last, and the girls awoke in go

en pulled through a

leep," said Gypsy, drearily. "I know one thing.

have a lover

is that fire going to be built, I'd like to kn

into the wood-shed and get some.

said Gypsy, "so's no

ped, with a scream that echo

What is th

t's a

st! No

he, too, came back with a jump, and, though

can

. Something tall and white and ghastly, with

lothes. Gypsy stood still and winked fast for about

ut a broom-handle and a sheet

psy started with her, and they crept downstairs on tiptoe, holding their very breath in their efforts to be still, the sta

e kitchen without mishap. Then came the somewhat dubious undertaking of crawling upsta

e basket," said Gypsy. "One

to feel her w

Egypt! Joy, why

awful crash that echoed and re?choed, and resounded throug

" breathed G

and every one of Pat

every solitary stick of that wood clattered down the uncarpeted stairs, thumped through the banisters, bounced on the floo

, screaming, in fearful dishabille, from the attic, and the congress that assembled in that en

e end of that C

forgot any difference between her own little gifts and Joy's. This was partly because she had somehow learned to be glad in the difference, if it

orgeous worsteds over her thin fingers, the happy sunlight touching their colors of crimson, and royal purple, and orange, and woodland brown

le-how Peace drew her face down softly on the pillow, pointing to the blue

Gypsy, when I woke up in