Then, too, the doctor said Miss
Brown had but a few days at the most, perhaps only hours, to live;
and comforted she must be.
All at once I had an inspiration, and never in my life have I
welcomed one more. I knelt down by little Miss Brown and told her
the story of the Phoenix. I had not reckoned in vain upon her
imagination: would I "yerely and twooly bwing" her "werry own
luvly miss out of the ashes?" I lied cheerfully and hastened away
to the dust-bin, accompanied by Mrs Brown.
In a few minutes we returned with a pail of ashes, the ashes, of
course, of 'luvly miss' mingled with those of the cruel fire which
had consumed her. I danced solemnly round them, murmured
mysterious words, parted the ashes, and revealed the form of 'luvly
miss.' Love's eyes were not sharp to mark a change, and little
Miss Brown's misplaced faith in me was strong. Never shall I
forget the scream of joy which greeted the restored treasure, or
the relief with which I saw an expression of peace settle once more
on Miss Brown's face.
I saw them again next day. Little Miss Brown was asleep in her
last little bed, still wrapped in the "pitty warm snow," and 'luvly
miss' lay beside her.
Four Stories Told to Children
The Story of the Dreadful Griffin.
My Dear Children,--I am going to tell you a really breathless story
for your holiday treat. It will have to begin with the moral,
because everyone will be too much exhausted to read one at the end,
and as the moral is the only part that really matters, it is
important to come to it quite fresh.
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