All at once, I heard my little brother calling me, from the other end of the garden. But I did not move—I did not answer him —but only muttered to myself—"It's too bad; they won't leave me alone a minute—they are all against me—I can't even cry in peace." But soon I heard his voice and his step coming nearer. Then he stood over me, saying joyfully—
"Sister, sister, see here, what auntie sent back to you! She had it in the chaise-box all the while!"
I looked up, and down into my lap was dropped such a beautiful book, with a bright red cover, and gilded leaves, and hosts of fine pictures! I was half beside myself with joy. I jumped up so quick that I overturned my brother, and trod on kitty's tail. I hastily begged pardon of both, and then ran off to Fido, to make friends with him. But a slap on the jaws was the one insult that he never would forgive in a hurry. He put on a doubly injured air and sullenly refused to receive my apology; though it was as handsome a one as I knew how to make. I took him by the paw and told him how sorry I was for what I had done—then I patted his head caressingly—but he turned over toward the currant bush, and his tail never wagged an inch. So I left him to pout it out, while I ran into the house to show my gift to mamma and the rest.
They all thought it exceedingly pretty, and said that my aunt was very good to give me so handsome a present, for so poor a performance. I thought so too, and felt troubled in my conscience for not having kissed her, when she went away. I forgave her for the fright she had given me—but, I grieve to say, I had a sort of spite against those good old kings and patriarchs for a long time after.
As soon as I grew sufficiently calm, I sat down and looked through my book. It was a volume of Natural History, Travels, and Wonderful Adventures. Oh! how plainly I remember to this day, every picture it contained. There was one of an old Turk, sitting cross-legged, on a carpet, smoking a great pipe, with such a long winding stem that I wondered the smoke didn't get lost in it. There was a Chinaman, with his hair braided in a long tail that nearly touched the ground—so that if he should step backward suddenly, he might trip himself up. And a Chinawoman, with such tiny little feet that if it had not been for the name of the thing, she might as well have had no feet at all. Then there was a picture of Noah and his family entering the ark—all crowding in as though in a hurry to get out of the rain; and another of a happy Arab family, sitting in their tent, with their horse in the midst, which quite put me out of conceit with houses. Indeed, I proposed to my brothers, to fasten a blanket upon hop-poles and camp out that very night. They all said that it was a brave plan, the only objection being that we had no warm sand to sleep on, and no kind, gentle pony to keep us company—our old gray mare having a young colt, and being always particularly cross at such times. Then there were portraits of wonderful animals and serpents, the like of which I had never seen; there was a boa-constrictor, winding himself round and round a poor antelope, and squeezing him so tight that I almost listened to hear the bones crack. There was a giraffe, stretching his long neck up and out as though to look over the hills to see the sun rise. There was a family of apes on a tree, enjoying themselves, chattering and eating nuts, and swinging by their tails; and a kangaroo mother running away from a tiger, and carrying her little ones in her apron. There was an angry elephant tugging at the body of a great tree, to get at a hunter who had wounded him. I remember how surprised I was on inquiring for his trunk, to find that this was only the common name of the great proboscis which he held before him, for I had been so foolish as to suppose that he carried it on his back, or strapped on behind him.
I treasured up this volume for years and years. I loved it all the better for the grief I had suffered when I supposed I had lost it by my poor reading, and though I have had hosts of handsomer and more costly books since, I have never had one I prized half so highly as My Aunt's Present.
[A Curious Dog Story.]
A great many anecdotes have been told of dogs, from Ulysses' faithful brute, who, although his master was away twenty years, fighting the Trojans and wandering about the world, did not forget him, but kept one glad wag of affection in his old tail for his return, then dropped dead—down to the "Neptunes" and "Neros," the "Lions" and "Carlos" of which everybody knows;—but we once heard one which we think very few, if any of you, can have heard.