The moment the bell rang next morning Nat flew out of bed, anddressed himself with great satisfaction in the suit of clothes hefound on the chair. They were not new, being half-worn garmentsof one of the well-to-do boys; but Mrs. Bhaer kept all such cast-offfeathers for the picked robins who strayed into her nest. They werehardly on when Tommy appeared in a high state of clean collar,and escorted Nat down to breakfast.

The sun was shining into the dining-room on the well-spread table,and the flock of hungry, hearty lads who gathered round it. Natobserved that they were much more orderly than they had been thenight before, and every one stood silently behind his chair whilelittle Rob, standing beside his father at the head of the table,folded his hands, reverently bent his curly head, and softlyrepeated a short grace in the devout German fashion, which Mr.Bhaer loved and taught his little son to honor. Then they all satdown to enjoy the Sunday-morning breakfast of coffee, steak, andbaked potatoes, instead of the bread and milk fare with which theyusually satisfied their young appetites. There was much pleasanttalk while the knives and forks rattled briskly, for certain Sundaylessons were to be learned, the Sunday walk settled, and plans forthe week discussed. As he listened, Nat thought it seemed as if thisday must be a very pleasant one, for he loved quiet, and there wasa cheerful sort of hush over every thing that pleased him verymuch; because, in spite of his rough life, the boy possessed thesensitive nerves which belong to a music-loving nature.

"Now, my lads, get your morning jobs done, and let me find youready for church when the 'bus comes round," said Father Bhaer,and set the example by going into the school-room to get booksready for the morrow.

Every one scattered to his or her task, for each had some littledaily duty, and was expected to perform it faithfully. Somebrought wood and water, brushed the steps, or ran errands for Mrs.Bhaer. Others fed the pet animals, and did chores about the barnwith Franz. Daisy washed the cups, and Demi wiped them, for thetwins liked to work together, and Demi had been taught to makehimself useful in the little house at home. Even Baby Teddy hadhis small job to do, and trotted to and fro, putting napkins away,and pushing chairs into their places. For half and hour the ladsbuzzed about like a hive of bees, then the 'bus drove round, FatherBhaer and Franz with the eight older boys piled in, and away theywent for a three-mile drive to church in town.

Because of the troublesome cough Nat prefered to stay at homewith the four small boys, and spent a happy morning in Mrs.Bhaer's room, listening to the stories she read them, learning thehymns she taught them, and then quietly employing himselfpasting pictures into an old ledger.

"This is my Sunday closet," she said, showing him shelves filledwith picture-books, paint-boxes, architectural blocks, little diaries,and materials for letter-writing. "I want my boys to love Sunday, tofind it a peaceful, pleasant day, when they can rest from commonstudy and play, yet enjoy quiet pleasures, and learn, in simpleways, lessons more important than any taught in school. Do youunderstand me?" she asked, watching Nat's attentive face.

"You mean to be good?" he said, after hesitating a minute.

"Yes; to be good, and to love to be good. It is hard worksometimes, I know very well; but we all help one another, and sowe get on. This is one of the ways in which I try to help my boys,"and she took down a thick book, which seemed half-full of writing,and opened at a page on which there was one word at the top.

"Why, that's my name!" cried Nat, looking both surprised andinterested.

"Yes; I have a page for each boy. I keep a little account of how hegets on through the week, and Sunday night I show him the record.If it is bad I am sorry and disappointed, if it is good I am glad andproud; but, whichever it is, the boys know I want to help them, andthey try to do their best for love of me and Father Bhaer."

"I should think they would," said Nat, catching a glimpse ofTommy's name opposite his own, and wondering what was writtenunder it.

Mrs. Bhaer saw his eye on the words, and shook her head, saying,as she turned a leaf

"No, I don't show my records to any but the one to whom eachbelongs. I call this my conscience book; and only you and I willever know what is to be written on the page below your name.Whether you will be pleased or ashamed to read it next Sundaydepends on yourself. I think it will be a good report; at any rate, Ishall try to make things easy for you in this new place, and shall bequite contented if you keep our few rules, live happily with theboys, and learn something."

"I'll try ma'am;" and Nat's thin face flushed up with the earnestnessof his desire to make Mrs. Bhaer "glad and proud," not "sorry anddisappointed." "It must be a great deal of trouble to write about somany," he added, as she shut her book with an encouraging pat onthe shoulder.

"Not to me, for I really don't know which I like best, writing orboys," she said, laughing to see Nat stare with astonishment at thelast item. "Yes, I know many people think boys are a nuisance, butthat is because they don't understand them. I do; and I never sawthe boy yet whom I could not get on capitally with after I had oncefound the soft spot in his heart. Bless me, I couldn't get on at allwithout my flock of dear, noisy, naughty, harum-scarum little lads,could I, my Teddy?" and Mrs. Bhaer hugged the young rogue, justin time to save the big inkstand from going into his pocket.

Nat, who had never heard anything like this before, really did notknow whether Mother Bhaer was a trifle crazy, or the mostdelightful woman he had ever met. He rather inclined to the latteropinion, in spite of her peculiar tastes, for she had a way of fillingup a fellow's plate before he asked, of laughing at his jokes, gentlytweaking him by the ear, or clapping him on the shoulder, that Natfound very engaging.

"Now, I think you would like to go into the school-room andpractise some of the hymns we are to sing to-night," she said,rightly guessing the thing of all others that he wanted to do.

Alone with the beloved violin and the music-book propped upbefore him in the sunny window, while Spring beauty filled theworld outside, and Sabbath silence reigned within, Nat enjoyed anhour or two of genuine happiness, learning the sweet old tunes,and forgetting the hard past in the cheerful present.

When the church-goers came back and dinner was over, every oneread, wrote letters home, said their Sunday lessons, or talkedquietly to one another, sitting here and there about the house. Atthree o'clock the entire family turned out to walk, for all the activeyoung bodies must have exercise; and in these walks the activeyoung minds were taught to see and love the providence of God inthe beautiful miracles which Nature was working before their eyes.Mr. Bhaer always went with them, and in his simple, fatherly way,found for his flock, "Sermons in stones, books in the runningbrooks, and good in everything."

Mrs. Bhaer with Daisy and her own two boys drove into town, topay the weekly visit to Grandma, which was busy Mother Bhaer'sone holiday and greatest pleasure. Nat was not strong enough forthe long walk, and asked to stay at home with Tommy, who kindlyoffered to do the honors of Plumfield. "You've seen the house, socome out and have a look at the garden, and the barn, and themenagerie," said Tommy, when they were left alone with Asia, tosee that they didn't get into mischief; for, though Tommy was oneof the best-meaning boys who ever adorned knickerbockers,accidents of the most direful nature were always happening to him,no one could exactly tell how.

"What is your menagerie?" asked Nat, as they trotted along thedrive that encircled the house.

"We all have pets, you see, and we keep 'em in the corn-barn, andcall it the menagerie. Here you are. Isn't my guinea-pig a beauty?"and Tommy proudly presented one of the ugliest specimens of thatpleasing animal that Nat ever saw.

"I know a boy with a dozen of 'em, and he said he'd give me one,only I hadn't any place to keep it, so I couldn't have it. It was white,with black spots, a regular rouser, and maybe I could get it for youif you'd like it," said Nat, feeling it would be a delicate return forTommy's attentions.

"I'd like it ever so much, and I'll give you this one, and they canlive together if they don't fight. Those white mice are Rob's, Franzgave 'em to him. The rabbits are Ned's, and the bantams outsideare Stuffy's. That box thing is Demi's turtle-tank, only he hasn'tbegun to get 'em yet. Last year he had sixty-two, whackers some of'em. He stamped one of 'em with his name and the year, and let itgo; and he says maybe he will find it ever so long after and knowit. He read about a turtle being found that had a mark on it thatshowed it must be hundreds of years old. Demi's such a funnychap."

"What is in this box?" asked Nat, stopping before a large deep one,half-full of earth.

"Oh, that's Jack Ford's worm-shop. He digs heaps of 'em and keeps'em here, and when we want any to go afishing with, we buy someof him. It saves lots of trouble, only he charged too much for 'em.Why, last time we traded I had to pay two cents a dozen, and thengot little ones. Jack's mean sometimes, and I told him I'd dig formyself if he didn't lower his prices. Now, I own two hens, thosegray ones with top knots, first-rate ones they are too, and I sellMrs. Bhaer the eggs, but I never ask her more than twenty-fivecents a dozen, never! I'd be ashamed to do it," cried Tommy, witha glance of scorn at the worm-shop.

"Who owns the dogs?" asked Nat, much interested in thesecommercial transactions, and feeling that T. Bangs was a manwhom it would be a privilege and a pleasure to patronize.

"The big dog is Emil's. His name is Christopher Columbus. Mrs.Bhaer named him because she likes to say Christopher Columbus,and no one minds it if she means the dog," answered Tommy, inthe tone of a show-man displaying his menagerie. "The white pupis Rob's, and the yellow one is Teddy's. A man was going to drownthem in our pond, and Pa Bhaer wouldn't let him. They do wellenough for the little chaps, I don't think much of 'em myself. Theirnames are Castor and Pollux."

"I'd like Toby the donkey best, if I could have anything, it's so niceto ride, and he's so little and good," said Nat, remembering theweary tramps he had taken on his own tired feet.

"Mr. Laurie sent him out to Mrs. Bhaer, so she shouldn't carryTeddy on her back when we go to walk. We're all fond of Toby,and he's a first-rate donkey, sir. Those pigeons belong to the wholelot of us, we each have our pet one, and go shares in all the littleones as they come along. Squabs are great fun; there ain't any now,but you can go up and take a look at the old fellows, while I see ifCockletop and Granny have laid any eggs."

Nat climbed up a ladder, put his head through a trap door and tooka long look at the pretty doves billing and cooing in their spaciousloft. Some on their nests, some bustling in and out, and somesitting at their doors, while many went flying from the sunnyhousetop to the straw-strewn farmyard, where six sleek cows wereplacidly ruminating.

"Everybody has got something but me. I wish I had a dove, or ahen, or even a turtle, all my own," thought Nat, feeling very pooras he saw the interesting treasures of the other boys. "How do youget these things?" he asked, when he joined Tommy in the barn.

"We find 'em or buy 'em, or folks give 'em to us. My father sendsme mine; but as soon as I get egg money enough, I'm going to buya pair of ducks. There's a nice little pond for 'em behind the barn,and people pay well for duck-eggs, and the little duckies are pretty,and it's fun to see 'em swim," said Tommy, with the air of amillionaire.

Nat sighed, for he had neither father nor money, nothing in thewide world but an old empty pocketbook, and the skill that lay inhis ten finger tips. Tommy seemed to understand the question andthe sigh which followed his answer, for after a moment of deepthought, he suddenly broke out,

"Look here, I'll tell you what I'll do. If you will hunt eggs for me, Ihate it, I'll give you one egg out of every dozen. You keep account,and when you've had twelve, Mother Bhaer will give youtwenty-five cents for 'em, and then you can buy what you like,don't you see?"

"I'll do it! What a kind feller you are, Tommy!" cried Nat, quitedazzled by this brilliant offer.

"Pooh! that is not anything. You begin now and rummage the barn,and I'll wait here for you. Granny is cackling, so you're sure to findone somewhere," and Tommy threw himself down on the hay witha luxurious sense of having made a good bargain, and done afriendly thing.

Nat joyfully began his search, and went rustling from loft to lofttill he found two fine eggs, one hidden under a beam, and the otherin an old peck measure, which Mrs. Cockletop had appropriated.

"You may have one and I'll have the other, that will just make upmy last dozen, and to-morrow we'll start fresh.

Here, you chalk your accounts up near mine, and then we'll be allstraight," said Tommy, showing a row of mysterious figures on theside of an old winnowing machine.

With a delightful sense of importance, the proud possessor of oneegg opened his account with his friend, who laughingly wroteabove the figures these imposing words,

"T. Bangs & Co."

Poor Nat found them so fascinating that he was with difficultypersuaded to go and deposit his first piece of portable property inAsia's store-room. Then they went on again, and having made theacquaintance of the two horses, six cows, three pigs, and oneAlderney "Bossy," as calves are called in New England, Tommytook Nat to a certain old willow-tree that overhung a noisy littlebrook. From the fence it was an easy scramble into a wide nichebetween the three big branches, which had been cut off to send outfrom year to year a crowd of slender twigs, till a green canopyrustled overhead. Here little seats had been fixed, and a hollowplace a closet made big enough to hold a book or two, adismantled boat, and several half-finished whistles.

"This is Demi's and my private place; we made it, and nobody cancome up unless we let 'em, except Daisy, we don't mind her," saidTommy, as Nat looked with delight from the babbling brown waterbelow to the green arch above, where bees were making a musicalmurmur as they feasted on the long yellow blossoms that filled theair with sweetness.

"Oh, it's just beautiful!" cried Nat. "I do hope you'll let me upsometimes. I never saw such a nice place in all my life. I'd like tobe a bird, and live here always."

"It is pretty nice. You can come if Demi don't mind, and I guess hewon't, because he said last night that he liked you."

"Did he?" and Nat smiled with pleasure, for Demi's regard seemedto be valued by all the boys, partly because he was Father Bhaer'snephew, and partly because he was such a sober, conscientiouslittle fellow.

"Yes; Demi likes quiet chaps, and I guess he and you will get on ifyou care about reading as he does."

Poor Nat's flush of pleasure deepened to a painful scarlet at thoselast words, and he stammered out,

I can't read very well; I never had any time; I was always fiddlinground, you know."

"I don't love it myself, but I can do it well enough when I want to,"said Tommy, after a surprised look, which said as plainly as words,"A boy twelve years old and can't read!"

"I can read music, anyway," added Nat, rather ruffled at having toconfess his ignorance.

"I can't;" and Tommy spoke in a respectful tone, whichemboldened Nat to say firmly,

"I mean to study real hard and learn every thing I can, for I neverhad a chance before. Does Mr. Bhaer give hard lessons?"

"No; he isn't a bit cross; he sort of explains and gives you a boostover the hard places. Some folks don't; my other master didn't. Ifwe missed a word, didn't we get raps on the head!" and Tommyrubbed his own pate as if it tingled yet with the liberal supply ofraps, the memory of which was the only thing he brought awayafter a year with his "other master."

"I think I could read this," said Nat, who had been examining thebooks.

"Read a bit, then; I'll help you," resumed Tommy, with apatronizing air.

So Nat did his best, and floundered through a page with mayfriendly "boosts" from Tommy, who told him he would soon "goit" as well as anybody. Then they sat and talked boy-fashion aboutall sorts of things, among others, gardening; for Nat, looking downfrom his perch, asked what was planted in the many little patcheslying below them on the other side of the brook.

"These are our farms," said Tommy. "We each have our ownpatch, and raise what we like in it, only have to choose differentthings, and can't change till the crop is in, and we must keep it inorder all summer."

"What are you going to raise this year?"

"Wal, I cattleated to hev beans, as they are about the easiest cropa-goin'."

Nat could not help laughing, for Tommy had pushed back his hat,put his hands in his pockets, and drawled out his words inunconscious imitation of Silas, the man who managed the place forMr. Bhaer.

"Come, you needn't laugh; beans are ever so much easier than cornor potatoes. I tried melons last year, but the bugs were a bother,and the old things wouldn't get ripe before the frost, so I didn'thave but one good water and two little 'mush mellions,' " saidTommy, relapsing into a "Silasism" with the last word.

"Corn looks pretty growing," said Nat, politely, to atone for hislaugh.

"Yes, but you have to hoe it over and over again. Now, six weeks'beans only have to be done once or so, and they get ripe soon. I'mgoing to try 'em, for I spoke first. Stuffy wanted 'em, but he's got totake peas; they only have to be picked, and he ought to do it, heeats such a lot."

"I wonder if I shall have a garden?" said Nat, thinking that evencorn-hoeing must be pleasant work.

"Of course you will," said a voice from below, and there was Mr.Bhaer returned from his walk, and come to find them, for hemanaged to have a little talk with every one of the lads some timeduring the day, and found that these chats gave them a good startfor the coming week.

Sympathy is a sweet thing, and it worked wonders here, for eachboy knew that Father Bhaer was interested in him, and some werereadier to open their hearts to him than to a woman, especially theolder ones, who liked to talk over their hopes and plans, man toman. When sick or in trouble they instinctively turned to Mrs. Jo,while the little ones made her their mother-confessor on alloccasions.

In descending from their nest, Tommy fell into the brook; beingused to it, he calmly picked himself out and retired to the house tobe dried. This left Nat to Mr. Bhaer, which was just what hewished, and, during the stroll they took among the garden plots, hewon the lad's heart by giving him a little "farm," and discussingcrops with him as gravely as if the food for the family depended onthe harvest. From this pleasant topic they went to others, and Nathad many new and helpful thoughts put into a mind that receivedthem as gratefully as the thirsty earth had received the warm springrain. All supper time he brooded over them, often fixing his eyeson Mr. Bhaer with an inquiring look, that seemed to say, "I likethat, do it again, sir." I don't know whether the man understood thechild's mute language or not, but when the boys were all gatheredtogether in Mrs. Bhaer's parlor for the Sunday evening talk, hechose a subject which might have been suggested by the walk inthe garden.

As he looked about him Nat thought it seemed more like a greatfamily than a school, for the lads were sitting in a wide half-circleround the fire, some on chairs, some on the rug, Daisy and Demion the knees of Uncle Fritz, and Rob snugly stowed away in theback of his mother's easy-chair, where he could nod unseen if thetalk got beyond his depth.

Every one looked quite comfortable, and listened attentively, forthe long walk made rest agreeable, and as every boy there knewthat he would be called upon for his views, he kept his wits awaketo be ready with an answer.

"Once upon a time," began Mr. Bhaer, in the dear old-fashionedway, "there was a great and wise gardener who had the largestgarden ever seen. A wonderful and lovely place it was, and hewatched over it with the greatest skill and care, and raised allmanner of excellent and useful things. But weeds would grow evenin this fine garden; often the ground was bad and the good seedssown in it would not spring up. He had many under gardeners tohelp him. Some did their duty and earned the rich wages he gavethem; but others neglected their parts and let them run to waste,which displeased him very much. But he was very patient, and forthousands and thousands of years he worked and waited for hisgreat harvest."

"He must have been pretty old," said Demi, who was lookingstraight into Uncle Fritz's face, as if to catch every word.

"Hush, Demi, it's a fairy story," whispered Daisy.

"No, I think it's an arrygory," said Demi.

"What is a arrygory?" called out Tommy, who was of an inquiringturn.

"Tell him, Demi, if you can, and don't use words unless you arequite sure you know what they mean," said Mr. Bhaer.

"I do know, Grandpa told me! A fable is a arrygory; it's a story thatmeans something. My 'Story without an end' is one, because thechild in it means a soul; don't it, Aunty?" cried Demi, eager toprove himself right.

"That's it, dear; and Uncle's story is an allegory, I am quite sure; solisten and see what it means," returned Mrs. Jo, who always tookpart in whatever was going on, and enjoyed it as much as any boyamong them.

Demi composed himself, and Mr. Bhaer went on in his bestEnglish, for he had improved much in the last five years, and saidthe boys did it.

"This great gardener gave a dozen or so of little plots to one of hisservants, and told him to do his best and see what he could raise.Now this servant was not rich, nor wise, nor very good, but hewanted to help because the gardener had been very kind to him inmany ways. So he gladly took the little plots and fell to work. Theywere all sorts of shapes and sizes, and some were very good soil,some rather stony, and all of them needed much care, for in therich soil the weeds grew fast, and in the poor soil there were manystones."

"What was growing in them besides the weeds, and stones?" askedNat; so interested, he forgot his shyness and spoke before them all.

"Flowers," said Mr. Bhaer, with a kind look. "Even the roughest,most neglected little bed had a bit of heart's-ease or a sprig ofmignonette in it. One had roses, sweet peas, and daisies in it," herehe pinched the plump cheek of the little girl leaning on his arm."Another had all sorts of curious plants in it, bright pebbles, a vinethat went climbing up like Jack's beanstalk, and many good seedsjust beginning to sprout; for, you see, this bed had been taken finecare of by a wise old man, who had worked in gardens of this sortall his life."

At this part of the "arrygory," Demi put his head on one side likean inquisitive bird, and fixed his bright eye on his uncle's face, asif he suspected something and was on the watch. But Mr. Bhaerlooked perfectly innocent, and went on glancing from one youngface to another, with a grave, wistful look, that said much to hiswife, who knew how earnestly he desired to do his duty in theselittle garden plots.

"As I tell you, some of these beds were easy to cultivate, thatmeans to take care of Daisy, and others were very hard. There wasone particularly sunshiny little bed that might have been full offruits and vegetables as well as flowers, only it wouldn't take anypains, and when the man sowed, well, we'll say melons in this bed,they came to nothing, because the little bed neglected them. Theman was sorry, and kept on trying, though every time the cropfailed, all the bed said, was, 'I forgot.' "

Here a general laugh broke out, and every one looked at Tommy,who had pricked up his ears at the word "melons," and hung downhis head at the sound of his favorite excuse.

"I knew he meant us!" cried Demi, clapping his hands. "You arethe man, and we are the little gardens; aren't we, Uncle Fritz?"

"You have guessed it. Now each of you tell me what crop I shalltry to sow in you this spring, so that next autumn I may get a goodharvest out of my twelve, no, thirteen, plots," said Mr. Bhaer,nodding at Nat as he corrected himself.

"You can't sow corn and beans and peas in us. Unless you mean weare to eat a great many and get fat," said Stuffy, with a suddenbrightening of his round, dull face as the pleasing idea occurred tohim.

"He don't mean that kind of seeds. He means things to make usgood; and the weeds are faults," cried Demi, who usually took thelead in these talks, because he was used to this sort of thing, andliked it very much.

"Yes, each of you think what you need most, and tell me, and I willhelp you to grow it; only you must do your best, or you will turnout like Tommy's melons, all leaves and no fruit. I will begin withthe oldest, and ask the mother what she will have in her plot, forwe are all parts of the beautiful garden, and may have rich harvestsfor our Master if we love Him enough," said Father Bhaer.

"I shall devote the whole of my plot to the largest crop of patienceI can get, for that is what I need most," said Mrs. Jo, so soberly thatthe lads fell to thinking in good earnest what they should say whentheir turns came, and some among them felt a twinge of remorse,that they had helped to use up Mother Bhaer's stock of patience sofast.

Franz wanted perseverance, Tommy steadiness, Ned went in forgood temper, Daisy for industry, Demi for "as much wiseness asGrandpa," and Nat timidly said he wanted so many things hewould let Mr. Bhaer choose for him. The others chose much thesame things, and patience, good temper, and generosity seemed thefavorite crops. One boy wished to like to get up early, but did notknow what name to give that sort of seed; and poor Stuffy sighedout,

"I wish I loved my lessons as much as I do my dinner, but I can't."

"We will plant self-denial, and hoe it and water it, and make itgrow so well that next Christmas no one will get ill by eating toomuch dinner. If you exercise your mind, George, it will get hungryjust as your body does, and you will love books almost as much asmy philosopher here," said Mr. Bhaer; adding, as he stroked thehair off Demi's fine forehead, "You are greedy also, my son, andyou like to stuff your little mind full of fairy tales and fancies, aswell as George likes to fill his little stomach with cake and candy.Both are bad, and I want you to try something better. Arithmetic isnot half so pleasant as 'Arabian Nights,' I know, but it is a veryuseful thing, and now is the time to learn it, else you will beashamed and sorry by and by."

"But, 'Harry and Lucy,' and 'Frank,' are not fairy books, and theyare all full of barometers, and bricks, and shoeing horses, anduseful things, and I'm fond of them; ain't I, Daisy?" said Demi,anxious to defend himself.

"So they are; but I find you reading 'Roland and Maybird,' a greatdeal oftener than 'Harry and Lucy,' and I think you are not half sofond of 'Frank' as you are of 'Sinbad.' Come, I shall make a littlebargain with you both, George shall eat but three times a day, andyou shall read but one story-book a week, and I will give you thenew cricket-ground; only, you must promise to play in it," saidUncle Fritz, in his persuasive way, for Stuffy hated to run about,and Demi was always reading in play hours.

"But we don't like cricket," said Demi.

"Perhaps not now, but you will when you know it. Besides, you dolike to be generous, and the other boys want to play, and you cangive them the new ground if you choose."

This was taken them both on the right side, and they agreed to thebargain, to the great satisfaction of the rest.

There was a little more talk about the gardens, and then they allsang together. The band delighted Nat, for Mrs. Bhaer played thepiano, Franz the flute, Mr. Bhaer a bass viol, and he himself theviolin. A very simple little concert, but all seemed to enjoy it, andold Asia, sitting in the corner, joined at times with the sweetestvoice of any, for in this family, master and servant, old and young,black and white, shared in the Sunday song, which went up to theFather of them all. After this they each shook hands with FatherBhaer; Mother Bhaer kissed them every one from sixteen-year-oldFranz to little Rob, how kept the tip of her nose for his ownparticular kisses, and then they trooped up to bed.

The light of the shaded lamp that burned in the nursery shonesoftly on a picture hanging at the foot of Nat's bed. There wereseveral others on the walls, but the boy thought there must besomething peculiar about this one, for it had a graceful frame ofmoss and cones about it, and on a little bracket underneath stood avase of wild flowers freshly gathered from the spring woods. Itwas the most beautiful picture of them all, and Nat lay looking atit, dimly feeling what it meant, and wishing he knew all about it.

"That's my picture," said a little voice in the room. Nat popped uphis head, and there was Demi in his night-gown pausing on hisway back from Aunt Jo's chamber, whither he had gone to get a cotfor a cut finger.

"What is he doing to the children?" asked Nat.

"That is Christ, the Good Man, and He is blessing the children.Don't you know about Him?" said Demi, wondering.

"Not much, but I'd like to, He looks so kind," answered Nat, whosechief knowledge of the Good Man consisted in hearing His nametaken in vain.

"I know all about it, and I like it very much, because it is true,"said Demi.

"Who told you?"

"My Grandpa, he knows every thing, and tells the best stories inthe world. I used to play with his big books, and make bridges, andrailroads, and houses, when I was a little boy," began Demi.

"How old are you now?" asked Nat, respectfully.

"'Most ten."

"You know a lot of things, don't you?"

"Yes; you see my head is pretty big, and Grandpa says it will take agood deal to fill it, so I keep putting pieces of wisdom into it asfast as I can," returned Demi, in his quaint way.

Nat laughed, and then said soberly,

"Tell on, please."

And Demi gladly told on without pause or punctuation. "I found avery pretty book one day and wanted to play with it, but Grandpasaid I mustn't, and showed me the pictures, and told me aboutthem, and I liked the stories very much, all about Joseph and hisbad brothers, and the frogs that came up out of the sea, and dearlittle Moses in the water, and ever so many more lovely ones, but Iliked about the Good Man best of all, and Grandpa told it to me somany times that I learned it by heart, and he gave me this pictureso I shouldn't forget, and it was put up here once when I was sick,and I left it for other sick boys to see."'

"What makes Him bless the children?" asked Nat, who foundsomething very attractive in the chief figure of the group.

"Because He loved them."

"Were they poor children?" asked Nat, wistfully.

"Yes, I think so; you see some haven't got hardly any clothes on,and the mothers don't look like rich ladies. He liked poor people,and was very good to them. He made them well, and helped them,and told rich people they must not be cross to them, and they lovedHim dearly, dearly," cried Demi, with enthusiasm.

"Was He rich?"

"Oh no! He was born in a barn, and was so poor He hadn't anyhouse to live in when He grew up, and nothing to eat sometimes,but what people gave Him, and He went round preaching toeverybody, and trying to make them good, till the bad men killedHim."

"What for?" and Nat sat up in his bed to look and listen, sointerested was he in this man who cared for the poor so much.

"I'll tell you all about it; Aunt Jo won't mind;" and Demi settledhimself on the opposite bed, glad to tell his favorite story to sogood a listener.

Nursey peeped in to see if Nat was asleep, but when she saw whatwas going on, she slipped away again, and went to Mrs. Bhaer,saying with her kind face full of motherly emotion,

"Will the dear lady come and see a pretty sight? It's Nat listeningwith all his heart to Demi telling the story of the Christ-child, likea little white angel as he is."

Mrs. Bhaer had meant to go and talk with Nat a moment before heslept, for she had found that a serious word spoken at this timeoften did much good. But when she stole to the nursery door, andsaw Nat eagerly drinking in the words of his little friends, whileDemi told the sweet and solemn story as it had been taught him,speaking softly as he sat with his beautiful eyes fixed on the tenderface above them, her own filled with tears, and she went silentlyaway, thinking to herself,

"Demi is unconsciously helping the poor boy better than I can; Iwill not spoil it by a single word."

The murmur of the childish voice went on for a long time, as oneinnocent heart preached that great sermon to another, and no onehushed it. When it ceased at last, and Mrs. Bhaer went to takeaway the lamp, Demi was gone and Nat fast asleep, lying with hisface toward the picture, as if he had already learned to love theGood Man who loved little children, and was a faithful friend tothe poor. The boy's face was very placid, and as she looked at itshe felt that if a single day of care and kindness had done so much,a year of patient cultivation would surely bring a grateful harvestfrom this neglected garden, which was already sown with the bestof all seed by the little missionary in the night-gown.