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| “anxtous inspection of my ¢
: . that you did.”
NUMBEE 47.
OLMSTEAD: & C0., PUBLISHERS,
~ TOMMY MCPHELAN, PEDLER, AND
od SOLDIER. 4
a}
Stuart, spent a summer withme at Holly Grove.
‘ merry pranks and harmless roguery. He brought
me a letter from his mother containing numerous
“directions respecting his diet and dress, his out-
guings and incomings; -but after a thorough in-
spection of him, I decided to give him the largest
“aliowablé: liberty, and to depend upon an abun-
dance of exercise in the fresh air for keeping him
up to his ordinary standard of health. - 7
¢ For three days nothing unusual occurred; then
my cake began to disappear in an amazing manner.
Cuokies, ginger-crackers, bath-biscuit, fruit-cake,
pound-cake, vanished like the dew, leaving no trace
bebind them.
dren do have!” I said to myself.”
“Ihave always
heard so and now I know it.” ~
By-and-by I discovered .that the frosted sheets t
went, first and I ceased to adorn my loaves; where-
upon my rogue confided to Bridget his regrets that
auntie had grown so careful of her sugar. This
system of pillage having become annoying from the
fact that I never could tell when I invited a caller
to stay to tea whethef I could fill my cake basket,
I baked sthall fruit pies for my little man.’ I
gained nothing by this, Indeed, I fost, instead,
for now both pies and cakes travelled together.
Then I bought an extra quantity of fruit with a
similar result. I remonstrated with Phil., but he
only lifted his arch, sunny face, and asked, “Are
“you sure that Tam the” thief, auntie?” and I) mis-
erably weak, yielded at ance, and thought that if
he wanted dainties, why then dainties he should
have. ‘To be sure, I was racked with fears. First,
* I imagined his appetite would fail at meals; but
he went steadily through with the course and in-
varibly desired a little more pudding at dinner, and
a second piece of cake at tea, Next, I fancied he
* would sleep ill, and cry out, terrified with dreams.
Nothing of the kind occurred 5 and in my many
trips to his little bed I found his skin cool and
moist, his pulse steady, and his breathing regular
and soft, Finally,1 was haunted by a dread of
sudden sickness; but the merry laugh continued,
and the neighbors said, “How lucky you are with
~ that child!”
° There. was another mystery connected with
yeti ot ?
, Some years ago a nephew. of mine, named Philip |‘
lle was a bright, happy lad of nine years, full of} :
“What astonishing appetites chil-|
“No, I didn’t think that. Then either Philip or
Bridget must have given them to you. Tell the
truth, Tommy; that is always best in the long run.”
Philip. He never had a cent of money. Five and
ten cent pieces, to say nothing of coppers, were
constantly finding their way to his pockets, but
neither his uncle nor Lever saw them come out.
Could he be hoarding them? I examined bis
trunk, drawers and writing-case in vain, and then
settled down to the belief that of all the marvels of
creation the boy was, doubtless, the greatest. —
"’ Several weeks went by in this way, when, as I
was hunting in the outskirts of the village for a de-
linquent washer-woman, I saw Tommy McPhelan
with a tray of pies, cake and fruit. -Tommy was
twelve or thereabout, with a round, dumpy head,
and a face that smiled all over on the slightest
provocation. His trowsers were fringed in every
direction with the edges of gaping rents, he was
minus a shirt, and his spenser matched his trow-
sers toa point; but he was wellwashed, and his
hair was brushed until it seemed turning to gold in
the sunbeams. His tray was covered with grape
leaves instead of a napkin and the articles were
protected from sun and dust in the same manner.
One or two of the leaves, however, had fallen aside,
and I recognized some of the results of my own
“early labors. At sight of me, Tommy attempted
to bide; but finding that impossible, he changed
his tactics and boldly offered his wares.
“eWhy,. Tommy,” said I, “those hearts and
“rounds, and that slice of pound cake, and those
two little pies, are mine!” ° : , .
“And indade, thin, they’re nice, ma'am, if ye
“made ’um wid yer own white fingers,” replied the
vender, unabashed. ee .
“Tommy, did Philip Stuart give you those
things P” .
Tommy hesitated while he made a curious and
ountenance,
“You didn’t steal them, Tommy; T can’t believe
“O, no, ma’am,” and the smiling asaurance faded
+ af the Kittle face. -
wa
“Jt was Philip, ma’am, but he said ye'd be wil-
lin’... Ue said the more he tuk, the more ye put in
the boxes. And ye won't bang him, or pinch his
ears, or knock his head, or pull his hair, ma’am,
will ye? I'd ruther ye'd do it to me. I’m used to
it, and it won’t hurt me eo bad.” ‘
“] ghan’t bang either of you, Tommy, and you
are very welcome to everything you have had, al-
though it was not right for Philip to use the cake
for such a purpose without asking permission.”
“Thin won't ye plaze to eat a piece of the cake
or some of the berries, ma’am? I’ve kep’ ’em
clean, jist as Philip give ’em to me, See how cool
and green the leaves are now,”
[involuntarily drew back, but a pained look
crept into the pleasant face, and the young voice
quivered as the child said: “Plaze do, ma’am, and
thin I shall be shure ye’ve forgiven Philip and me.”
J could resist no longer. I broke off a crumb of
cake and took a couple of cherries, while Tommy
watched me with intense pleasure. “Good by,
Tommy,” I said. Go and sell the rest of your
things, and come to see me this afternoon at six
o'clock. You shall have cake and cherries for
yourself.” . .
“Philip,” said T, when I reached home, “do you
know Tommy McPhelan?” 4
“To be sure I do, auntie. I found him out the
third day sfer Ieame to Ifolly Grove, And O,
auntie, dear, only to think of your fancying that I
ate all those goodies that he has been selling so
long! Why, I bav’nt eaten a mouthful away from
the table since I have been here, except when you
and I have lunched together,” and Phil. burst into
a fit of laughter which threatened never to end.
When he recovered I Jearned that Tommy had a
wretched home, that his parents were lazy and in-
temperate, and that he himself had been trying to
get a decent suit of clothes in order to take servicr
| with some rexpectable family, Philip ‘bad found
| him with a dirty basket attempting to sell a few
Nee se
WE WHO SERVE GOD SERVE A GOOD MASTER, ,
sticks of candy and a roll or two of lozenges. ' Ile
had urged the necessity of personal cleanliness,
had suggested the tray with its pretty covering of
leaves, and had added such articles‘as he could to
his little stock. The latter, he told me, had sold
remarkably well, and the small vender would have
been already fitted out with trim garments, but
that he was obliged to share his profits with his
miserable parents,
“You ought to have asked permission to give
away the cake, Philip, ) That would have been the
better way to do. Did your money go with the
cake, Philip ?” .
“Yes, auntie, only I put that safely away for
Tommy, myself, and old McPhelan and his wife
don’t know anything about it, I thought, auntie,
how dreadful it would be for me to live in that
horrid hole, and I wanted to help Tommy out of it.
Was I wrong, auntie? Oughtn’t Ito have taken
the cake and pies?” bans . sie
Tommy arrived promptly at six o’clock. . He
had made a little preparation for the visit by draw-
ing up the holes in bis garments with variously
colored thread, and his face and hands bad under-
gone a recent scrubbing. lis face glowed and bis
sturdy’ form seemed to expand with: pride and
pleasure. Bridget gave him supper on a little
round table in the kitchen, where she waited upon
him with much formality, while Philip took his own
plate out and stood beside him eating and laugh-
ing over the morning sale, , .
I bad been puzzling my brain about Tommy's
case all the afternoon without result, but his grate-
ful looks decided me. Partly by persuasions and
partly by threats I induced his father to part with
him, and took him into my own family as a gener-
al waiter, The trifle which he had accumulated
was, of course, deposited for him in a savings bank,
and I have never seen happiness more radiant than
his when be received his bank book. He proved
to be good-tempered, affectionate, fond of fun, but
reasonably diligent, and possessed of fair mental
powers, as he showed by his progress during the
terms of the district school. I do not know when
ahs 5
I should have been willing to part with him, but
that his parents made his stay with me the excuse for
impositions which finally wore out my patience. At
the end of two years Mrs..Stuart obtained a situ-
ation for him in another State, and as the elder
McPhelan disappeared soon afterward, my youth-
ful waiter faded from my memory. , .
Our acquaintance was renewed recently in an
unexpected manner. , Philip Stuart happened tobe *
with me during the last great military panic and
pany of Irish volunteers set off for Washington.”
“Pshaw, Phil! Think of breakfasting at five
. o'clock in the morning and riding twenty miles
merely to have one’s heart half broken with the
leave-takings of mothers, wives and children. ‘If
you really want to go, why not goalone? or, per-
haps your uncle will go with you.” us
But Phil. was resolute and I yielded. IknewI
should at. the outset, So did he. His mother
said I did all in my power to spoil her children.
To do them justice; they were unspoilable by love,
whatever might have happened to them through
tyranny. t y .
As we emerged from the depot, I saw that all the
good places’ were agcupied; but a minute later, a
wagon body without seats was wheeled into the
square. , ate .
_ “Let's mount,” said Phil. ,
“No, I shall be too conspicuous,” _ ot
~“As if a black dress, gray bonnet and waterproof
can be conspicuous, auntie,” replied my cavalier,
half helping mo iato the vehicle.” Uae es
We were scarcely arranged before we caught the
tones of the “Star Spangled Banner,” and then
there was the glitter of bayonets, and the waving
of silk and bunting, and the steady tramp of mar-
shalled men, and in five minutes the expected com-
pany was in position before my wagon and present
ing arms. -I looked around to learn who the dis-
play was intended for, when Phil whispered, “Ac-
knowledge the compliment, auntie. ’Tis meant for
you. Quick! ‘tis Tommy McPhelan.”
I obeyed mechanically, and Capt. McPhelan
came forward, as fine a specimen of a future sol-
dier as I could desire to see. We was sufficiently
tall and thoroughly developed in form, his hair had
deepened in tint toa clear chestnuty:his honest,
fearless eyes shone with pleasure, a brilliant color
broke through the brown hue of his cheeks and
glowed on his fresh lips, while the light of a gener-
ous purpose gleamed through and over it.
- “I can't thank you enough, ma’am,” he said,
grasping my hand. “I wanted powerfully to go
to Tlolly Grove, but I couldn’t; so Lwrote to Mr.
Stuart and begged him to persuade you to come
here. I felt-as if 1 must say good-by, but I
shouldn’t have ventured to ask wholly on my own
account, I wanted you to see my company. I've
raised it myself, ma’am, and we've enlisted for the
war, I'vg provided for the old folks, and Rose,—
that’s my sweetheart, ma’am—she was willing I
should go, so I thought I ought to. You see I’m
stout and well, ma’am, and there’s many that go
that isn’t; and then I've part of my family with
me. The first lieutenant, he’s my cousin, ma’am,”
the second lieutenant, he’s my cousin, too,”—a
shake with the second lieutenant—“and then one
of the sergeants and tw» of the corporals are cou-
sins, in a way, ma'am; that is, they're second cou
sins like.” ‘ . ‘
This time I dismounted and proceeded to a shake
hands with the sergeants and corporals. . Phil. had
gone through the company with smiles, and greet
ings, and good wishes, and I might have followed
his example, but word came that the cars were
ready, Thereupon, the captain and I. grasped
hands with fervent “God bless yous,” the fife and
drum struck up “Lochaber no more,” and the men
fell into line and marched into the depot. I hur-
ried to the platform outside, and waved my hand-
kerchief until the train was out of sight.
I was wiping the moisture from my eyes, oces-
sioned, doubtless by,the dust, when Philip broke
into a last ringing hurrah, and then turning to me
he said, “Nicely managed, wasn’t it, auntie dear?
You didn’t think that it was Tommy you were to
see; and you didn’t dream that the wagon was-in-
tended for you; and you had no suspicion of the
compliment in store for you.” You would hare?
—I shook handa with the first lieutenant—‘and ~
92 SCILOOL STREET, BOSTON, |
insisted that I should go to M——-to see acom- « |
Vv