Prayers for her, where’er she wanders—
Far from Dollie’s Spring.
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried Kittie and Bess together, as Pet concluded, “who is Dollie? which one of us is Dollie?” But Randolph only laughed and wouldn’t tell.
With their gay spirits fully restored—for it is as hard for boys and girls to keep solemn as for squirrels to keep from climbing—they told stories, laughed, talked, and raced, all the way home. Supper over, the evening passed swiftly, and bidding uncle Will and aunt Puss good-night, they trooped off to their rooms for the last time. Tom and Randolph were soon asleep, but the girls, I suspect, stayed awake for a good while, talking over the long, sweet summer days that were ended. At last brown eyes and blue were closed. High above, out of all reach of night, but shining down lovingly into it, the stars kept watch over the old farm-house; and He who neither slumbers nor sleeps, held the weary child-world in His arms.
Did our young friends return home safely? Did they see much of each other that winter in Boston? Was Randolph successful in school; and how did they all pass Christmas? There is no room here for answering so many questions; but you can find out all about them in the next number of this series,
“THE NORTHERN CROSS.”
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.