And laughed in her sleeve and purred.
FLOY’S PICTURE.
They were arranging the holly to trim the parlors for Christmas.
“Mamma, may I put a big bunch over Floy’s picture?” asked Eloise.
“Certainly, my dear, I was just thinking about it myself.”
The mother’s eyes filled with tears as she spoke. Eloise climbed the step-ladder carefully and placed a beautiful branch of holly over the picture. Then she sat down on the top of the ladder. She could not visit with Floy, for Floy had gone to heaven. This picture was so like her that to sit near it was something like sitting by Floy herself. She imagined Floy’s smile grew sweeter and sweeter.
“I’m very lonely without you,” she said to the picture. “I haven’t any little sister to play with now. I wish you could put your arms around my neck and hug me as you used to. I wish you could come down from heaven once in a while any way, so we could have some more good times together; so we could play with our dolls, or look at our picture books, or romp. Your Cinderella is just where you left her. She doesn’t have anybody to play with. I don’t play with her much because it makes me cry. I don’t play with my Maleen much neither. I let her sit beside Cinderella to comfort her. Jennie came over the other day to play and broke one of your dishes. It made me cry, and Mamma too, so I put your dishes all away in a box. Mamma has put all your clothes away too. She is going to give them to some poor woman who has a little girl about as big as you, because you’ll never need them any more. I suppose you have wings now. Do you ever fly down to earth, and can you see me? I can’t see you; I wish I could.”
ELOISE.