“A thing of joy and beauty,”
entitle you to be introduced before the pair of rollicking young monkies. Dear little Bear, do you know why Mamma and nurses deal so gently with your impatience, and Sister Daisy soothes you with such loving tones? Ah me! there is a cloud-fleck somewhere in the bluest sky,—a shadow on each sun-lit path, a withered leaf on every plant,—the dear Lord places a cross in every Eden, side by side with richest earthly blessings.
One more little figure attracts us, whose sunny ringlets, like a golden setting, encircle the fair face of the peerless little Lily, the Nursery Queen, at whose shrine brothers and sisters bow most loyal subjects.
Yes, little Mocking-bird, your sway is undisputed, you may pull off Aunt Kitty’s cap-strings, wring young Jacko’s saucy nose, tear the leaves of Artie’s book, or even, unrebuked, hurl your rattle at poor little Bear’s pale face. It is all right! The acts of Queen Baby are never questioned by her willing subjects.
CHAPTER III.
“Whirled on with shriek and whistle.”
Let us draw a curtain over the scenes of the last hour at home, for partings, though some have called them
“Such sweet sorrow,”