JUVENILE SCRAP-BOOK.
THE PROUD GIRL.
“How I wish gran’pa was here!” exclaimed little Susan Fielding, one day to her mother, who was busying herself about household affairs, and could not devote as much of her time to her children, Susan and Robert, as usual. Robert was about nine years old, and thought himself too much of a little man to complain of any fancied neglect on his mother’s part; so he amused himself by drawing horses and dogs on his new slate, a department of the fine arts, for which, if he had no particular talent, he showed at least a plentiful supply of industry. Susan was two years younger than Robert, and having no female companion of her own age, to converse with when her mother was engaged, really felt lonesome; and this is the reason why she cried, perhaps, a little impatiently, “How I wish gran’pa was here!”
Mrs. Fielding entered the room at this moment, and hearing Susan’s earnest wish, inquired of her why she was so anxious to see her grandpapa just then.
“Because, ma,” replied the little girl; “gran’pa always tells me such nice stories when I ask him to, and I do want some one to talk to me just now.”
“Well, my dear,” replied her mother, soothingly, “you will soon have your wish, for I saw your gran’pa coming up the lawn as I entered. He’ll be here presently, but do not tease him the moment he comes in, for you know he is very old, and must have time to rest after his walk.”
Susan clapped her hands for joy, and promised that she would be very patient, but she could not conceal her anticipated pleasure. As for Robert, as soon as he heard of his grandpapa’s being near the house, his slate and pencil were dropped immediately, and running to the door to meet him, his eyes fairly sparkled with delight as he cried lustily, “Gran’pa’s coming! gran’pa’s coming!”
Old Mr. Fielding was as much delighted with the children as they were with him, and when he seated himself in his easy chair, drawn from its corner by the children, he kissed both affectionately, and placed one on each knee, saying,