Percy's holidays

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"But shall I have to go alone?"

"To be sure, child. Why, one would think that you were talking of going to Australia! What do you think can happen to you, when you go on board the boat within sight of your own door, and have nothing to do but to sit still till you reach your stopping place? It will only be a pleasant sail, for the lake is hardly ever rough. I know Captain Seymour very well, and I will ask him to take care of you, and see that you get safely ashore. However, you need not come home on Saturdays, unless you like."

But Percy thought that staying at school week after week without coming home would be even worse than the weekly journey on the steamboat. She had sense enough to understand how greatly the arrangement would be to her advantage; and she had no objection to the lessons, for she was one of those rare children who love learning for its own sake; and, in the wandering life she had led, she had enjoyed very few advantages. But then those dreadful girls—those girls who had always been to school, and who would know so much more than she did—and the teachers would be shocked at her ignorance and stupidity! Then she would be obliged to have a room-mate, and Percy knew the said room-mate would be a cross, disagreeable girl, or a very orderly and particular lady, who would be shocked at her carelessness; or, worse still, one of those wicked, worldly girls she had read about in books, who would hinder her from reading her Bible, and laugh when she said her prayers, and who would want her to do all sorts of bad things.

Percy was a good little Christian child, and she felt instinctively that it would be very ungracious for her to object to a scheme which was so much for her own advantage, and was at the same time so generous on Aunt Zoe's part; so she never said a word about all these bugbears which, to her fancy, were lying in wait for her at Hansen school. But it was with a down-sinking heart and a decidedly long face that she accompanied her aunt on board the steamer on that first eventful Monday morning.

But in one thing Percy was very unlike many weak-spirited and timid people: her fears and forebodings were no affectation. They were very real, and they made her really and truly unhappy; so that she was very glad to get rid of them when she could. The first thing that brought her a drop of comfort was the steamer. It was such pretty little boat, so clean and fresh and so tastefully furnished, and it rode so lightly and easily in the water; and Captain Seymour seemed such a kind old gentleman; and the banks of the lake were so pretty; and it was so interesting to watch the gulls as they followed the boat or sat twittering to each other on the water, that Percy began to brighten up and think that the weekly sail would be very pleasant, and that she should not be so much afraid after all. As they came near the landing, Percy's great eyes were wide open to see all that could be seen, and she presently exclaimed:

"Oh, Aunt Zoe, just see those young ladies rowing! Don't they look pretty? See, there is another boat!"

"Those are the school boats," answered Aunt Zoe. "The girls go out rowing a great deal in pleasant weather. See, they are managing to get into the wake of the boat, so as to rock on the swells."

There was a wagon to carry up the trunks landed from the boat, and Aunt Zoe and Percy walked up to the school.

"It doesn't look a bit as I expected," said Percy, surveying the building.

"All the boarding school buildings I ever saw before looked like barracks or factories. I think this house seems more like a home."