"I am so homesick," she said, sitting in her favorite corner of the lounge, with her elbow resting on a cushion. "Here I've kept up for months working hard and learning ever so much, and feeling every day that father and mother are so good in sparing me to stay away so long, and in giving me these advantages, and now, when the last school term of the year is almost ended, examinations coming on, and then so soon home, sweet home and a long vacation, I can't stand it. I want my mother. I want to sleep in my own little room. I want to hug the baby. I want to count the silver, and dust the parlor, and keep the library in order, and run to meet my father when he comes home from the office. Oh, I know it is silly!" she said, laughing and crying both at once, "but I can't help it. I'm homesick, and I'd rather have the toothache. It wouldn't hurt any more."
There was no use in arguing with dear Ailsie, so I comforted her as best I could. You girls who are away at school know all about it. The homesick hours must come, and you wouldn't be really home-loving girls if you didn't have them. But if one never went away from home, she couldn't have the joy of going back there, and being met at the station by her big brother, and having father and mother welcome her, and the little ones show how much they had grown in her absence, even the cat and dog showing their delight that one they had missed was with them again. Poor puss, and poor collie and terrier, I often wonder at their dumb wonder and speculation as to what has become of their friends when somebody in the house goes off and stays away a long while. They cannot talk, but they purr or wag their tails, and all but laugh when the friends return. Yes, girls, brace up, as your brothers say. A half-hour at home will console you for the homesickness you suffer from when absent. Keep up your courage, and at the worst remember that
"The darkest day,
Live till to-morrow will have passed away."
The woods are perfect dreams of beauty in these May days, and what with the dogwood blossoms shining in starry splendor, and the laurel getting ready to bloom, and the orchards drifting their pink-and-white blossoms on the softly caressing winds, the world is a beautiful place. Be on the lookout for exquisite things and you will surely find them. It is a pity to go blindly through so much splendor. Use your eyes and observe; every day will show you something new.
Did you ever notice how cunningly some birds hide their nests, weaving them of twigs just the color of the ground, and then sitting on their eggs almost in your sight, yet so unobtrusively that you discover them only by accident? The little sociable wrens, less timid and more friendly, build their nests by the very house door, and are not afraid to let you have a peep at their pretty housekeeping. Birds are interesting neighbors to my mind.
Anna C. asks what you must have at an afternoon tea. You may have anything you choose, sandwiches, small cakes, salads, ices, candies, and, of course, tea served with cream and sugar, or with thin slices of lemon and sugar. But you must have, or, rather, you need only have, if you wish, tea and very thin, daintily served slices of bread-and-butter. The idea of afternoon tea is merely a light refreshment about five o'clock in the afternoon, when you may have a few moments' pleasant chat with the family and your friends, and when what you eat and drink is a delicate accompaniment to the conversation. Among the most acceptable sandwiches are those made with a crisp green lettuce leaf between thin slices of bread-and-butter, the lettuce salted and sprinkled with vinegar, or of very dainty brown bread with cottage cheese thinly spread on the two inner sides.
