The Picnic.

The feast of the Assumption. What a glorious day! Clear and bright, more like June than August.

Mrs. Allen and Amy went to early Mass. After breakfast Aunt Lucy proposed taking Bolax to high Mass, as the music was to be unusually fine. St. James' choir from the city volunteered their services. Mr. Van Horn sent out a fine organ to replace the squeaky, little melodeon, for it was the first anniversary of the dedication of the little country church, and all wanted to have an especially fine service.

Bo promised to be "better than good" while in Church. There was a very large congregation, the country people coming for miles around to hear the music and assist at the grand high Mass.

When Aunt Lucy and her charge entered the Church every seat seemed to be taken. Mrs. Allen's pew was filled with strangers, so dear old Madame Harte beckoned her to come into her pew.

From the beginning of the service, Bo was in an ecstasy of delight, except for an occasional tapping of his feet when the music was very inspiriting, he sat motionless.

Not to impose on the child's patience too long, Madame Harte offered to take him out during the sermon. "Oh, dear Hartie, is it all over?" said Bo. "No pet, but the priest is going to give a sermon, and you would be so tired." "No, I wouldn't, what is a sermon?" said Bo. "Oh, a very long talk, dear; come out with me," whispered Madame, "and I will bring you back when the music begins again."

"Will the priest tell stories?" asked Bo, when he got outside. "I like long talks when the talk is stories."

"Come dear, let us sit under that tree over there and I will tell you a true story." "Oh, thank you, Hartie dear."

"Once long ago, our dear Lord died and—" "Rose again and went up into Heaven," said Bo all in one breath. "Mamma tells me that every day at my prayers."

"Well," continued Mrs. Harte, "after Jesus went up to Heaven His holy Mother was very lonely, so she prayed and prayed to Jesus to take her up to Heaven, that she might be with Him forever. Well, one beautiful day, just like this, Jesus called a company of angels and sent them down to the earth to bring His blessed Mother up to Him."

"Did the Angels march out of Heaven like soldiers?" asked Bo.

"Yes, dear; they put on their brightest robes, and beautiful clouds of crimson and gold surrounded them, and then they carried the holy Mother up, up, until they came to the golden throne where Jesus sat, ready to welcome her; He placed her beside Him and there she remains happy forever."

When the organ began the grand music of the Credo, Bo made a dash for the door, and could scarcely be persuaded to enter the Church quietly. After he was seated, he listened intently and was apparently very much interested in the Altar boys.

At length came the "Agnus Dei," which ends, as all have heard, with "Dona nobis pacem." The music score called for a repetition of the word "Pacem," somewhat in this manner, "Dona Pacem, Pacem," the basso calling out "Pacem! Pacem!"

With startling suddenness, Bo exclaimed: "Why are they singing about a Possum?"

Aunt Lucy caught him by the hand and hurried him to the side door, which was fortunately near; those who were within hearing, with difficulty controlled their laughter. "Are you crying, Aunty?" said the funny youngster, as he saw the flushed face of his aunt. "No, Bo, dear; I came out because you spoke so loud." "Oh, I forgot; please forgive me; let me go in again; I'll be so good, but Aunty dear, I didn't know they ever let possums into Church." Mass was not over, and as it was a holy day of obligation, Aunt Lucy felt unwilling to leave until the last Gospel. On reflection, however, she thought it best not to give further distraction by returning to her seat.

On her way home, she stopped to see a child, who belonged to the Catechism class, hoping to find him able to join the rest of the children, who were going to have their annual picnic. The little fellow had hurt his foot, but his mother said he was now able to walk nicely.

After Mass, Miss Devine and Madame Harte drove over to Allen's to see about the proposed outing. There they met the ladies Keating, all discussed Bo's latest exploit and laughed heartily about the Possum.

"Our class has increased so largely this year, I fear we cannot have room for all the children on my grounds," observed Mrs. Allen. "Suppose we make it a straw ride," said Miss Keating. "We can give a substantial lunch, with ice cream and cake for dessert, and a bag of candy to take home." "Oh, grand! grand!" said Amy, clapping her hands, "and Ma, dear, I have two children I want to invite; they don't come to the class because they live so far away; I mean little Johnny Burke, who is lame, and Dotty, the blind child. I love them because they are afflicted."

"My darling, you shall invite the poor little ones, and I am glad to see you have such a compassionate heart." "Suppose we hire Johnson's big hay wagon," said Miss Keating, "it will hold all the children and two grown folks to look after them."

"That will be just the thing," said Miss Devine, "my contribution shall be the ice cream and cake." "and mine," said Madame Harte, "the candy." "I will help with the substantials and let the little things have more than enough for once in their lives," this from Miss Keating, whose whole time seemed to be taken up with helping the poor. "We can drive to Silver Lake woods," she proposed, "that is just six miles away and will not be too long a ride." After making all arrangements, the ladies took leave of Mrs. Allen, promising to be on hand on Thursday, August 20th.

The next day was Sunday. At Catechism class Mrs. Allen told the children of the proposed ride and picnic, which should take place on the next Thursday; all expressed their delight and you may be sure, thought of nothing else during the intervening days.

The next morning Bolax was playing with his dogs on the lawn when Tom Hoden made his appearance; he stood outside the gate, looking wistfully at Bo. Mrs. Allen called him in and gave him some breakfast. "Did your father tell you of my visit?" said the lady. Tom answered in his surly manner: "Yes, the old man said you was to the house, but I don't want to go to Sunday School, the fellows would call me 'rags,' and I ain't got no shoes." "That can be easily remedied," said Mrs. Allen, "come here tomorrow and see what I will have for you."

The poor boy's face brightened up, and making an awkward attempt to thank the lady, he ran out of the gate.

When Tom presented himself next day, Pat was called upon to give him a bath and dress him in a good suit of clothes. "Here he is, ma'am," said Pat, "and ye'd hardly believe it's the same boy."

Tom held up his head and seemed quite happy; so true it is, that be one ever so poor, a clean, respectable appearance makes one feel at ease with himself and on better terms with his fellows. "Now Tom, I expect you to be here on next Thursday morning at nine o'clock." Tom promised to come and thanked Mrs. Allen.

The appointed day arrived. Long before the wagon came, the children flocked into the garden. Pat was on the alert lest his flower beds should suffer.

Miss Keating and Mrs. Allen made all be seated, and to while away the time sang:

The children clapped for this; then Aunt Lucy played on the piano which could be heard distinctly out on the lawn.

Amy and Aunt Lucy sang:

Mary Dowry called Amy's attention to a charming little girl about six years old, who smiled through the railing and looked wistfully at the children. She was dressed in a pink frock, which set off her soft dark eyes.

Amy went towards her and she said, "Good morning," so sweetly. "I believe she wants to come with us," said Amy. "Oh, don't let her," cried Nellie Day, "she's only a Dago."

"Well, I'll give her some candy," said Bolax, "I like nice Dagos," and going to his mother, he told about the strange child. Mrs. Allen gave him a large bag of candy which he handed to the little girl.

On receiving it she said, "gracias, gracias." What is she saying "grassy ice for?" said Nellie Day, "perhaps she wants ice cream." "No" said Aunt Lucy "she is saying 'Thank you' in Italian. What pretty manners she has. I think some of our American children might profit by her sweet ways."

"I'm sure she has a nice mother," said Amy. "Let us take her with us." "I would, willingly dear," said Aunt Lucy, "but her people would think her lost, and we do not know where to send them word."

Great was the jubilation of the children, and not a little surprise among the ladies when the wagon appeared festooned with bunting, the driver carrying a flag, and the horses' heads decked in like manner. It was so kind of Mr. Johnson to give the decorations. Miss Keating and Aunt Lucy seated themselves and the children in the straw; then as the old song says:

Old and young joined in the fun and made the welkin ring with their mirth. Hetty and Pat put the lunch baskets and ice cream into the dayton, and with Miss Devine, Madame Harte and Mrs. Allen in the large carry-all followed the procession to Silver Lake woods.

The road strolled leisurely out of the village and then, abruptly left it behind, and curved about a hillside. Silver Lake woods sat on a hill slope studded with pine trees; at the foot of the hill could be seen a most beautiful piece of water glistening in the sunshine. This was the lake. Life of the forest seemed to enter into the veins of the children and they ran and capered like wild deer. The horses were unharnessed so that they might rest.

Pat and Mr. Johnson's man put up swings and hammocks. The Misses Keating and Aunt Lucy set the children to play games; Hare and Hounds suited the boys and they raced to hearts' content. The Lake was guarded by Miss Devine's coachman, John, so that no venturesome lad would put himself in danger. The girls were easily made happy with quiet games, swings and hammocks.

To the children, of course, the lunch was the principal feature, so the ladies spread an immense white cloth on the grass, around which all sat, and were served to as many chicken and ham sandwiches as they could eat. Tin cups of delicious milk and lots of sweet buns followed. Then came the ice cream and cake; by the time this was disposed of, it became evident the children could hold no more, so Madame Harte's candy was reserved for the homeward trip.

The men were not forgotten, and were well supplied with a substantial dinner of cold roast beef, pickles, bread and butter, a dozen of lemons and a pound of sugar to make lemonade. For, as Hetty, said, "dem dere fellows ain't goin' to care for soft vittles; dey wants sumpin' dat will keep dem from gettin' hollow inside." After the feast Pat and the other men gathered everything up, and packed all into the dayton, then Pat started for home.

The ladies were rather fatigued after their exertions in amusing and waiting on the children, so they rested in the hammocks awhile. As for the little ones, nothing seemed to tire them, they tore around as fresh and lively as if the day were just beginning. At four o'clock Mrs. Allen rang a bell to summon all to prepare for home. When the wagon came all piled in, laughing and shouting in their glee. Amy was most attentive to her little proteges, waiting on them and attending to all their wants. Little Dotty kept saying: "Dear Miss Amy, I love you; I thank you, and I'll always pray for you for giving me such a happy, happy day."

Bolax took little lame Johnny under his care, when the children were being placed in the wagon, he called out to the driver, "be sure to seat Johnny on a soft bunch of hay, because his leg is not strong." "Why did you say that?" said Nellie Day. "You ought to have said, because his is lame." "No, I just wouldn't say that," said Bo, "it might hurt Johnny's heart; my Mamma says we must never let lame people know we see their lameness, and never look at crooked-backed children, because it makes then feel worse."

When the wagon was ready to start, the driver offered to see all the children safely to their homes; he said most of them lived near the quarry, and he would take the pike road, which passed within a few minutes' walk of it. Johnny and little Dotty he promised to deliver into the hands of their mothers.

The ladies Keating had ordered their carriage to call for them, and Miss Devine's "carry-all" held the rest of the party, including Bo and Amy.

This ended one happy day filled with love and kindness, and sweet charity towards God's poor little ones.

CATECHISM CLASS.

On the Sunday after the picnic, the Catechism class met. All the pupils were eager to show their appreciation of the happy day their kind teachers had given them.

The subject of instruction was the Ten Commandments. Mrs. Allen made a few remarks in simple, plain words, showing the advantages of truth over falsehood; dwelling particularly on the Seventh and Eighth Commandments, saying how happy one felt when his conscience told him, he was entirely free from the mean habit of lying and taking little things which were the property of others.

After class was dismissed, Tom lingered on the piazza. Mrs. Allen went to him, and asked him if he wanted to speak to her. "Yes, ma'am;" said the boy, "I once took a wheelbarrow out of your yard; I am very sorry; if you will trust me, I'll work out the price of it on your place. I could help Pat if he'd let me. I'm strong; I'm twelve now." Mrs. Allen was touched with the evident sincerity of the boy, and thanked God that the good seed was already bearing fruit. Taking the boy's hand, she told him our Lord would certainly forgive and bless him since he bravely acknowledged his fault. "You may come tomorrow and I will give you work and keep you here until I can get you a permanent situation." Tom thanked his kind benefactress, promising to return the next day.

As he was passing out the gate Bo hailed him. "You're a good boy now Tom, so I can walk with you a little way; I am going to give you a pair of my darling white rats. They're such cute little things; they eat corn out of my mouth and run all over me." "Thank you, Bo, but I'd better don't take 'em, our place is full of black rats and they'd be sure to eat up the white ones." As Tom was speaking, he threw a stone at a bird that was hopping along the path. "Stop that!" said Bo, "you're getting bad again; that's a robin. Robins are blessed birds, because when our Lord was nailed on the Cross, a robin flew near and tried to pull the thorns out of His dear head, but robin was not strong, so he only could pull one thorn out, and the blood of poor Jesus got on the bird's feathers so that is why robin's breast is red." "Is that really so, who told you?" "My dear Mamma told me, and she knows everything in the world, so it is true Tom, and if you want my Mamma to love you, you must be kind to animals and kind to birds especially to robins."

"Well, little fellow, I will try for your sake. You see I never knowed about nothing, so I done bad acts. Now since I go to Catechism class I'll try to do good acts."

After leaving Tom, Bolax loitered on the way home, amusing himself with his dogs; when he went into the house, Hetty called him. "Where you done been such a long time, boy?" "Oh, I was only down the hill," replied Bo. "Well, here's me and sister a working while you'se playin'; just you come, let me wash you' hands and den you kin help us make dese here cookies." Amy was already busy rolling out dough and cutting cakes, so Bo was delighted to help. "Hetty, dear," said he, "if I roll this dough into cannon balls will they bake nice?" "Cannon balls in my oven," said Hetty, "suppose they go on to bust, what den?" "Oh, they won't bust, Hetty dear." So Hetty put the cannon balls to bake with the pan full of cookies and when they were done, she spread a nice white cloth on a little table near the window in the kitchen, bringing out the crabapple jelly, which the children always considered a treat. Then she put a bouquet in the center of the table and a pitcher of creamy milk. This with the cookies and some peaches made a delightful lunch. Amy understood why Hetty was particular to set the table so nicely and kept dancing 'round and talking nonsense.

Mamma and Aunt Lucy had gone out for the day and she wanted to keep Bo from noticing their absence. After enjoying the feast and feeding their pets, their friend, Adele, came and took them out in her pretty pony cart. It was five in the afternoon when the children returned. As soon as Bolax entered the house, he began his usual refrain: "Ma, dear." As he received no answer, he suddenly remembered he had not seen his mother all day. "Why Hetty," said he, "is Mamma not at home?" "No, honey," said Hetty, "she's been in town; she'll be home soon now, and she g'wan to give you a nice present when I tell her what a good boy you done been. Come now eat yon' supper, so you' Ma will find you in bed when she comes home."

Bo and Amy sat at the little table where they had had lunch. Hetty gave them a nice supper and allowed them each to have a doggie beside them, with a plate to eat from.

After supper they went upstairs to prepare for bed. Buz and Roy followed. Amy took Bo into the Oratory to say night prayer. Bo began very piously "Our Father," but just here Buz bit his foot. "Stop that, Buz, don't you see I'm saying my prayers. Our Father, who art in Heaven. Buz won't behave." Bo called out laughing, at the same time. "Hetty," said Amy, "you had better come up here, Bo's just giggling instead of saying his prayers." "I comin' up; you dogs git out of dis here Oritey; it ain't no place for laughin'. Now you better don't be a mockin' of de Lord, Bo. I tell you somethin' might come arter you some night." But Bo couldn't stop, he was so full of merriment. "Well, I was saying my prayers with a humble and contrite heart when Roy came and thumped me in the back." "Yes," replied Amy, "and you just let him; you had better stop your nonsense." Hetty tried all her arts to get Bo to bed, at last she said: "Well, you always wasn't a religion child, anyway. I remember one time when you was three years old, you' mother was a dressin' you up in a lovely coat and hat with white plume, she was buttoning of the coat and you kept wigglin', then she told you to try to be a good boy, else you' angel wouldn't love you. You said: 'Where is my angel.' 'Right behind you,' says you' Ma; then you pushed up against the wall and rubbed you back so hard. I was settin' dere and tried to make you stop. Your Ma, she say: 'What you doin' you bad boy,' and you answer 'Squashing the angel!' You' Ma couldn't help smilin' and I jest fall down on de floor with laughin,' We was so taken by surprise."

"Well, Hetty," said Amy, "that's the reason Bolax is bad, because people laugh at him." "Oh, I wouldn't say that now," said Bo, "I'm near six, and I do love my angel; the laughing is all gone now; I can say my prayers." So Bo said his prayers respectfully and went to bed.

A little after midnight, he ran into his mother's room. "Oh, Mamma, dear, did you hear it? Oh, it is awful, and I did say my prayers."

Out in the entry Hetty was heard saying: "For de Lord sake! Oh, Miss Allen, dere it is again."

Mrs. Allen and the whole household heard a most unearthly shriek, but immediately remembered it was the new fire alarm. After quieting the little boy and making Hetty understand what it was, Mrs. Allen looked out of the window, and saw that a large house on the top of a high hill was ablaze; as it was only a frame building it was soon destroyed, for the firemen could not reach it.

After the disturbance was over and all were going back to bed, Bo put his arm around his mother's neck, and said: "I guess I had better stay with you Mamma, dear; you might get afraid again."