BBESSIE thought a great deal of those two poor, wicked, neglected children, who had no one to care for them; and when she went up to bed and had knelt at her mother's side, and said her evening prayers, she paused a moment before she rose and said,—

"Please, dear Jesus, send some one to teach Lem and Dolly about you, and how you loved little children, and let me help them a little if there is any way I could do it, 'cause I am so sorry for them. Amen."

Mamma laid her hand very tenderly on her darling's head, though she said nothing, for she did not see how it was possible for her gentle little girl to help the two forlorn outcasts upon whom all kindness seemed worse than thrown away.

"Yet who knows what even she might do?" thought the mother, as having seen each little birdling safe in its nest, she went slowly and musingly down stairs to join the rest of the family, thinking as she went of Bessie's simple prayer, "who knows what even she might do? for—

It would not be the first time, as the mother knew, that the seed innocently dropped by that baby hand had taken root, and brought forth fruit rich and flourishing in the garden of the Lord.

"Maggie," said Bessie, the next morning as they sat together upon the piazza step, waiting for Mr. Porter to take them to the garden and give them their plots of ground, "Maggie, would you not like to do something for Lem and Dolly?"

"Yes, that I would," said Maggie; "I would just like to give Lem a good soaking in the lake, and to make Dolly's knee hurt just as much as Fred's."

"But that would be naughty," said Bessie; "it's not the way Jesus would like us to do, and it's not the Golden Rule that you like so much, Maggie. I think it is to give evil for evil."

"Well, I s'pose it is," said Maggie; "and it is rather naughty, I do believe, Bessie; but I do not mean I would do it, only I would like to do it. I think I'll be about as naughty as that."

"Don't you think you can forgive them, Maggie?"

"No, not quite," said Maggie. "I'll forgive them a little, but I can't give them the whole of my forgiveness. Why, they were so very bad, and did so many mean things to us, when we did not do a single thing to them. Don't you feel a bit angry with them, Bessie?"

"Yes," said Bessie, "I'm 'fraid I do. When I think about it I feel pretty angry. But I want to try and forgive them enough to do a kind thing to them if I have a chance."

"Oh," said Maggie, "we could never do a kind thing to them even if we wanted to. You see they just come and do something bad, and then run away, 'cause their guilty conscience knows they ought to be punished. And besides, Bessie, they're not fit 'ciety for us. The copy book says, 'Shun evil company,' and mamma said that meant we must not go with wicked people. And they are so ragged and dirty. You would not like to touch them or sit down by them, would you?"

"No," said Bessie, quickly, for she was very dainty and delicate in all her ways, and the thought of coming near the miserable, dirty children was not at all pleasant to her; "but maybe sometimes we might say a kind word to them without going very close to them; and if we showed them we did not feel very mad with them, perhaps they would not be so naughty to us. I am so very sorry for them, 'cause they have no one to teach them better, and no mother, and such a bad father, who tries to make them more wicked. If you ever had the chance to do a little bit of kindness for them, Maggie, would you not do it?"

"I don't know," said Maggie, "that's a great thing to make up my resolution about, and I'll have to think about it a little. Oh, here are Mr. Porter and the boys. Now let us go."

"Maggie and Bessie, mamma wants to speak to you in her room before you go," said Harry, looking very full of glee.

The little girls ran in, and there, oh, delight! there stood mamma with a tiny spade, rake and hoe in each hand. It was quite impossible to mistake who they were meant for. They were just of the right size for our two small gardeners; and mamma's look and smile as she held them out told that they were for their use.

Maggie gave a shriek of delight and went capering all about the room; and Bessie's bright smile and the color which flushed her cheeks told that though less noisy, she was not less pleased than her sister.

"Oh, you darling, precious mamma," said Maggie, pausing in her capers to examine the pretty toys, "they are just what we wanted. How did you get them so quickly?"

"I brought them with me," said mamma, "thinking that some day when you wanted, something to do, they might furnish you with a new pleasure; but I did not think they would prove useful so soon. You must be careful of them, and not leave them lying out in the damp, or they will be spoiled."

The children readily promised, and ran off to show their treasures to their brothers and Mr. Porter.

Mr. Porter soon measured off such a square of ground as he had promised for each of them, adding one for Hafed, who was much pleased to do as the others, and fell to with a good will at digging and planting. Mr. Porter also kindly gave them such seeds as would do to plant at this late season; and papa, who had driven down to the village with the Colonel and Uncle Ruthven, came back with a number of verbenas, heliotropes, geranium slips and other pretty things, which were set out in the new gardens. Nor was this all, for Uncle Ruthven had bought a small watering-pot for each child, and they had gone to the carpenter's, where the Colonel had ordered two wheel-barrows, one of a fit size for Maggie and Bessie, the other a little larger for the boys, and these were to be done in a day or two. In short, nothing seemed wanting to success but patience and industry on the part of the young gardeners.

The girls chose to have only flowers in their gardens, but the boys had some vegetables as well. Mr. Porter told them the beds must be kept nicely weeded, and watered when the weather was dry.

There was only one fault which Maggie and Bessie could find with their gardens, and that was that they lay at such a distance from the house that mamma could not allow them to go there without their brothers or nurse to have an eye upon them. Not that they were not to be trusted out of sight, but mamma did not think it safe for two such little girls.

For some days after this, the four boys, Harry, Fred, Hafed and Bob, seemed to have an immense amount of whittling to do. At all odd times they were found with their knives and small strips of wood in their hands, and these bits of wood were all fashioned into one size and shape. But to what use they were to be put was kept a grand secret, until one day when Maggie and Bessie went with Jane to work in their gardens, they found a neat little fence about five inches high all around their plots. The kind brothers had made this agreeable little surprise for them.

"Our peoples are always doing nice things for us," said Bessie, when they had thanked the boys.

"Yes," said Maggie, "I am quite expecting to be surprised all the time."

At which the Colonel and Mrs. Rush, who were standing by, laughed, though Maggie could not see why.

Meanwhile nothing more had been seen or heard of Lem and Dolly. Mr. Porter had found out that Owen had not returned with them, and that the two children were alone in their miserable shanty. One day when Maggie and Bessie were out walking with some of their older friends, they came upon this wretched home, if home it could be called. The rock against which it leaned formed one side of the house, the other three were of single boards nailed together. A square hole was cut for a window, but had neither glass nor casement; and the door hung by one rusty hinge, which looked as if it might give way at any moment. There was no one about; Lem and Dolly were away, probably busied in some new mischief or theft, and our party peeped within the open door. No furniture of any kind was there. A heap of dried leaves and dirty rags upon the hard, uneven ground which formed the floor, was the only bed; and the little girls drew back in disgust. Without, upon the rocks, were the charred embers of a fire, and over them two crooked sticks, and they, with a battered tin pan, and numberless bones and feathers which lay scattered about, told that there the ill-gotten food was cooked and eaten.

It must have been a hard heart which was not saddened by the thought that this was all the home of two young children; and Bessie felt more pity than ever for Lem and Dolly. Maggie felt it, too, and as they turned away, she whispered to her sister,—

"Bessie, I never saw such a dreadful place to live in. I would do a kind thing for Lem and Dolly, if I could."

It was a lovely spot, too, but for the signs of poverty and filth around. Before them the mountain fell suddenly away, leaving on two sides a beautiful view of the open country, dotted with its fields and farm-houses. Away to the north stretched range after range of blue hills, till those in the distance were lost in the veil of mist which hung over their tops. The woods around were full of wild flowers, briar roses, delicate primroses, and the bright red columbine, and even here and there, a late anemone; the little star-like flower, looking almost as if it had dropped from heaven, and wondered to find itself alone and solitary, so far away from its sister stars.

A perfect silence lay upon all around; not a sound was heard; not a leaf seemed to stir in the summer air; not a bird was heard to utter a note; and a hush fell upon the party as they turned into the lovely little wood-path which led them homeward.

Bessie lingered a little, with her eyes fixed far away, and her head on one side as if she were hearkening to something.

"What is it, darling?" asked her father. "Are you not ready to go?"

"Yes, papa," she answered, putting her hand into his; "I was only listening to the still."

Her father smiled, and led her on till they had joined the rest. They were quite near home when the Colonel, who had fallen a little behind with his wife, called to Maggie and Bessie.

"To-morrow is Sunday," he said. "Have you found a place where you can have your Sunday-school class?"

No, Maggie and Bessie said, they had not thought of it.

"But perhaps Mr. Porter will let us have it in one of his barns, as Mr. Jones used to do last summer," said Bessie.

"I have found a better place than that for you," said Colonel Rush; "that is, on a pleasant Sunday. When it rains, we must find cover within doors. See, here, what do you think of this for a Sunday-school room?" And he guided them a little to one side, where a sloping path and four or five natural steps led down into a broad crevice or cleft among the rocks which surrounded the lake.

A lovely room it was indeed, carpeted with moss, curtained and shaded by the green trees which waved overhead, and furnished with seats made by one or two fallen stones on one side, on the other by a ledge of rock which jutted out at just such a height as to make a convenient bench for little people. The steps by which they had descended, closed them in behind; in front lay the lake; beyond that again the gray old rocks, the mountain rising bold and stern above the peaceful waters. No glimpse of the Lake House or its cheerful surroundings could be seen, unless one peered around the edge of the inclosing mass of rock, and this the Colonel would not permit the children to do, lest they should fall into the water which washed at the very foot of the pretty retreat.

The little ones were enchanted, as was their dear teacher, Mrs Rush, or "Aunt May," as they always called her now.

"I thought you would like it," said the Colonel. "I was strolling about this morning when I came upon this nook, and thought what a pleasant Sunday-school room it would make. So convenient, too. See, this great stone will do for a seat for May, and here is one for her table; while this ledge makes a capital resting-place for you. Try it, little ones."

The bench certainly did very well for Maggie, but Bessie's feet would not touch the ground. However, the Colonel made that all right by rolling over a flat stone which answered for a footstool, and Maggie and Bessie thought there was nothing more to be desired.

"Harry and Fred want to come," said Bessie, "do you think you could let them, Aunt May? Sunday evening we always tell them the stories the Colonel tells us in the morning, but they say they would like to hear them for themselves."

"And Uncle Ruthven would like Hafed to come too," said Maggie. "He said he was going to ask you. Hafed likes to learn, Aunt May, and he knows English pretty well now, and tries to understand all that is said to him."

"Certainly," said Mrs. Rush, "they may all come if they wish, and then we shall not miss Gracie and Lily so much."