I like this kind old sunny soul,
Whom nothing can annoy;
His pleasant smile is e'er the same,
To fill my heart with joy.
I like his quaint, ungainly shape;
I like his big round face.
Although he's clumsy through and through,
To me he's full of grace.
Indeed, he's sweet enough to eat—
Feet, elbows, legs, and head—
This very dear old gentleman,
Who's made of gingerbread.
R. K. Munkittrick.
IN THE OLD HERRICK HOUSE.[1]
BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.
CHAPTER VI.
lizabeth, in the days of Miss Rice's rule, had often thought that the most desirable thing in the world would be to go to school. She had often watched girls in the street hurrying along with books under their arms as the clock was about to strike nine, and they always looked so happy, and appeared to have so much to say to one another. That, to Elizabeth, was particularly delightful, for she had a friendly nature, although her lonely life had made her shy with other children.
And now she was to go to school herself. The summer was over, the Misses Herrick had returned to town, and arrangements had been made for entering Elizabeth at Mrs. Arnold's school. This decision had cost Miss Herrick some thought. It must be a good school educationally which she chose for her niece, but it must also be aristocratic. To Miss Herrick's mind, suitable acquaintances were more to be desired than "higher education."
Mrs. Arnold's school, however, apparently combined these two necessary qualifications; and on the morning after her twelfth birthday Elizabeth Herrick began her school life.
It was a very awful ordeal at first. She had never before encountered so many staring eyes, and when any one chanced to speak to her, it seemed as if she should sink through the floor.