"Uncle John was very kind, and consented to go with us; and not only so, but took us to the best places, and while we filled our baskets sat reading beside us. Then, when we had picked enough, he told us stories while we rested; and we were very happy. Something he said about a boy he once knew made Vea think of Patrick, for she exclaimed, quite suddenly,—'Oh! do you know, sir, we have found Patrick out at last! When he was lying at the cottage, there were so many poor people came to ask for him, that even aunt became interested; and she made inquiries, and we found that Patrick was in the habit of helping them in some way or other. One old woman told us he actually drew all the stock of drift-wood she has at her cottage, and piled it up there for her.'
"'But how did he manage to do it without you finding him out?' said Uncle John.
"'Oh, he rose and went out very early in the morning,' replied Vea. 'The servants were often complaining of the state of his boots; so, in case they would find him out, he used to leave them in the garden and go without his stockings. And do you know, sir, he was telling me such a sad story about that poor woman, and the reason why he helped her. She has lost her husband and three sons; and then her only child, a little girl, was drowned one day looking for drift-wood on the sea-shore.'
GATHERING WILD FLOWERS.
"'That will be Widow Martin then, I suppose!' said my uncle. 'Her story was indeed a sad one.—I am very glad to hear such good accounts of my young friend Patrick.'
"'And I am glad about it too, sir,' said Vea. 'Aunt Mary will be so pleased; but do you know, I am afraid Alfred has been the bad boy all the time, for since Patrick has been ill he is never done falling into disgrace. Aunt was seriously angry with him; and I overheard Patrick saying, "You see, Alfred, I often told you, you would be found out in the end; I couldn't always take the blame to screen you, so you had better give it up." Isn't Patrick a strange boy, sir?'
"It was a happy day for little Vea when her brother Patrick was able to be wheeled out, by his faithful friend Dick, in the chair his aunt got for the purpose; and I need not say that Patrick enjoyed it very much. I was invited to spend a week with them then, and as the weather was indeed beautiful, we were constantly in the open air. Patrick had always been fond of gardening, and it vexed him to see how his flowers had been neglected during his illness. 'Never mind,' said Dick; 'I bean't much of a gardener, but I'll do my best to set it all to rights, and I'm sure the young ladies there will lend a hand.'
DICK TRYING HIS HAND AT GARDENING.