Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha
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"I don't know; we'll ask your father first. There's no special haste and—how would you all like to go with me for a walk? a nice long stroll down to the bridge, and over the river, to look for wild flowers."
The proposal was greeted with loud acclamations and clapping of hands. "Oh, delightful!" "Oh goodie! goodie!" "May we mother?"
"Yes; we've all been working hard this long time, and I think really deserve a holiday. Rupert, make yourself decent and we'll set out at once, taking a lunch with us, so that we need not hurry home."
"Tan I do, mamma? tan Annis do?" asked the baby girl eagerly, the rosy face all aglow with delight.
"Yes, indeed, mother's darling; you shall go in your little coach; because your dear little feet couldn't travel fast enough to keep up with the rest, and would get so tired."
"Do we need to be dressed up, mother?" asked Fan, "me and Don and all the children?"
"No, dear; we don't go through town and are dressed quite enough for the woods."
They were soon on the way, strolling leisurely along, drinking in with keen enjoyment the sweet sights and sounds.
The sky over their heads was of a dark celestial blue with here and there a floating cloud of snowy whiteness, whose shadow flitted over the landscape, giving to it a charming variety of light and shade.
Their road lay along the bank of the river and its soft murmur mingled with the hum of insects and the song of birds. The grass beneath their feet was emerald green thickly studded with wild flowers of every hue, and the groves of saplings through which they passed were fast donning their summer robes.
The bridge was a rough wooden structure half a mile below the town; quite out of danger of crowding the houses of the citizens or doing much injury to the custom of the ferry.
The walk was a longer one than the younger children were accustomed to take, but there was no occasion for haste—they were in search of rest and pleasure, and when little feet grew weary, mother let them stop and amuse themselves with making wreaths and bouquets of the flowers they had gathered, or by throwing stones into the river, till they were ready to go on again.
They did not go far beyond the bridge; only climbed the bank, on the other side, picked a few flowers there, and were ready to return.
Chapter Twenty-first.
"You are meek and humble mouth'd;
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility; but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride."
—Shaks. Henry VIIIth.
"Oh, what's that? what's that?" cried a chorus of young voices, as Mrs. Keith and her little troop, returning from their morning stroll, stepped into the front porch at home.
"What indeed!" echoed the mother, as much surprised as any one of the others. "It looks very like a box of goods; but where could it come from?"
"Aunt Wealthy," suggested Mildred, examining it with a curious eye.
"Ah, so you have come back at last, eh?" said Mr. Keith coming out with a smiling face. "That's been waiting for you for over an hour," consulting his watch. "Come let's have dinner and then we'll see what's inside."
"Is it ready?" asked Mrs. Keith, taking off her bonnet.
"Yes; barely time for the washing of small hands and faces," he said, picking up Annis and racing off to the nursery with her; for so they called the room where the little ones slept and were dressed and undressed, though but a small part of the day was ordinarily spent there.
There was no lingering over the dinner table, though the meal was a good one, and the children's appetites had been sufficiently keen until they saw the box.
They ate and drank with dispatch, taking time for but little talk beyond a few conjectures as to its probable contents.
Father and mother certainly shared their curiosity and eagerness to some extent, and did not keep them waiting long.
A few minutes' work with the hatchet and the lid was off.
"Just newspapers!" cried Don, in a tone of bitter disappointment.
"Wait a bit, laddie," laughed Rupert.
"Something else under, I guess," said Cyril, while father, mother and Mildred made haste to lift and lay aside the papers for further perusal, for newspapers were too rare in those days to be despised, even though some weeks old.
"Books! oh delightful!"
"How good and kind in her!"
"Now we'll have a feast!" exclaimed one and another in varying tones of gladness.
"What are they? let us see," said Mr. Keith proceeding to lift them out one or two at a time, and with a glance at the titles on the backs, handing them to wife, son or daughter.
"Cooper's Naval History of the United States! There, that will particularly interest you, Rupert.
"And here are his novels, which mother and Mildred will enjoy. Scott's works also: those for older folks and his 'Tales of a Grandfather' for the children. Two more little books—'Anna Ross,' and 'Ruth Lee.'"
"Oh, they look pretty!" cried Zillah and Ada, peeping into these last.
"'Dunallan' for me! oh how glad I am!" exclaimed Mildred the next instant.
"Here's a bundle," said Mr. Keith, handing it out.
"Remnants, I presume," his wife said laughingly, and opening it found her surmise correct.
Groceries, candies and toys for the children, and some few other miscellaneous articles filled up the rest of this most welcome box.
"Dear old auntie! She shouldn't have wasted so much of her money on us," Mrs. Keith said with tears in her eyes, as she glanced over a note pinned to a dress pattern for herself. "But she says she has enjoyed it intensely, and I know that is so; for giving, especially to us, is her greatest delight."
"Yes, there never was a more generous soul," assented her husband.
"Ah, if we could only do something for her in return!" exclaimed Mildred.
"Yes, indeed! what a feast she has provided us!" cried Rupert, taking a peep here and there into the history. "Mother, can't we begin on them this afternoon?"
"I'm not ready for Mr. Lord," objected Mildred, "and in an hour it will be time to go to him."
That reminded the lad that he, too, had a lesson to prepare, and he left the room to attend to it.
"Wife,"