“Lu!  Lu! five o’clock, time to get up!” called a harsh voice in loud, shrill tones.

“Who, who was calling?” asked Eva starting out of sleep.

“Only Polly,” laughed Lulu.

“Get up, get up!” screamed the bird.  “Time for breakfast.  Polly wants her coffee.  Polly wants a cracker.”

“What a smart parrot! how plainly she talks,” said Eva.

“Yes; but so loud.  I’m afraid she will wake everybody in the house.”

“How has she learned your name so soon?” asked Eva.

“I don’t think she has,” said Lulu.  “Papa says there was a girl named Louisa in the place where Polly used to live, that everybody called Lu, and the parrot learned to call her so too.”

“Happy New Year!” screamed Polly.

“Oh just hear her!” cried Lulu in delight.  “Papa must have been teaching her that, or having somebody else do it, while we were away.  I think she’s going to make a great deal of fun for us all.  Happy New Year to you, Eva dear,” giving her friend a hug, as they lay side by side in the bed.

“The same to you, dear Lu,” returned Eva.  “How nice it is to be here with you lying on this easy couch with this down cover and these soft blankets over us.  I never lay on a more delightful bed.  Everything about it is beautiful and luxurious too.”

“Papa was very particular to get the very best of springs and mattresses for all our beds,” replied Lulu.  “Oh but he is a dear, good father, always careful for the comfort and happiness of all his children!”

“And of his wife?”

“Oh yes indeed!  I’m quite sure no man could take better care of his wife, or be more loving and kind to her, than papa is to Mamma Vi.  And I’m pretty sure he was just the same to my mother; he says he loved her very dearly and loves his children I mean Max and Gracie and me because they were hers as well as because they are his very own.”

“Lu!  Lu! get up!  Time for breakfast!” screamed Polly again.

“I suppose it is morning, or she wouldn’t be making such a fuss,” said Lulu.

“Yes,” said Eva, “I see a little light coming in at the window.”

“I’ll light the gas in the sitting-room, and give her a cracker to stop her screaming,” said Lulu, getting out of bed and feeling about for her warm slippers and dressing gown.  “Then I’ll run and catch papa and Gracie.”

“Lulu,” said the captain’s voice from Gracie’s room.

“I’m here, papa.  Oh a happy New Year to you!”

“Thank you, dear child.  I wish you the same; but I want you to give Polly a cracker as quickly as you can to stop her screaming; for I fear she will wake both guests and babies.”

“Yes, sir; I will.  I was just going to,” replied the little girl.  “Then shall I stay up?”

“I think you may as well go back to bed and try to take another nap,” he answered.  “It is very early yet.”

Lulu hurried into the sitting-room where Polly’s cage was hanging, and struck a light.

“What you ’bout?  Where you been?” demanded the parrot.

“Sleeping in my bed as I have a right to, Miss Saucebox,” returned Lulu, laughing as she opened a cupboard door and brought out a paper of crackers.  “There, take that and see if you can hold your tongue till folks are ready to get up.”

The bird took the offered cracker and began eating it, standing on one foot, on its perch, and holding the food in the claws of the other, while it bit off a little at a time, Lulu looking on with interest.

“You’ll have to behave better than this, or you’ll get banished to the attic, or the kitchen, or some other far-off place,” she said, shaking her finger threateningly at Poll.

Then, after turning down the light, she ran back to bed.

“Are you asleep, Eva?” she asked in a whisper.

“No dear; wide awake.”

“Then let’s talk; for I’m as wide awake as I can be.”

“But didn’t your father say you were to try for another nap?”

“I understood him to mean only that I might if I chose, not that I must; but perhaps he meant that he wanted me to; so I’ll keep quiet and try.”

She did so, saying to herself, “I just know it’s no use, for I was never wider awake in my life,” but to her great astonishment the next thing she knew it was broad daylight and Eva up and brushing out her hair before the mirror over the bureau.

“Why, I’ve been asleep and I hadn’t the least idea of such a thing!” cried Lulu springing out upon the floor and beginning to dress in all haste.

“Oh, you’ve had a nice nap and will feel the better for it all day, I’m sure,” returned Eva laughing in a kindly way; “and that is your reward for trying to do as your papa probably wished you to.  But need you hurry so? isn’t it a good while to breakfast time?”

“Yes, but I have to dress and say my prayers; and I always like so much to have a little time to chat with papa before the bell rings.”

“Lu!  Lu!” screamed the parrot, “time for breakfast!  Polly wants her coffee.”

“Just hear Polly,” exclaimed Lulu; “it does seem as if she must have sense.  I suppose she does think it’s time for breakfast.”

“Does she drink coffee?” asked Eva.

“Yes; she is very fond of it.  She gets a cup every morning.”

“She’s a very amusing pet, I think,” remarked Evelyn.  “What fun it will be to teach her to say all sorts of cute things!”

“Yes,” sighed Lulu, “but papa says if she should hear angry, passionate, or willful words from my lips she may learn and repeat them to my shame and sorrow.  But oh I hope I never shall let her hear such!”

“I don’t believe you ever will say such words any more, dear Lu,” Eva said with an affectionate look into her friend’s face.  “I don’t believe you have ever been in a passion since since the time that little Elsie had that sad fall.”

“No, I have not been in a rage, but I have said some angry words a few times, and oh as you must remember that I told you some very rebellious and insolent ones to my dear papa not so long ago.  Oh dear, I’m afraid my tongue can never be tamed!

“Papa made me learn that third chapter of James that says ’the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity and that no man can tame it.’  Then he talked to me so nicely and kindly about learning to rule my tongue and make it always speak as it ought wise, kind, pleasant words.  And he told me the only way to do it was by getting my heart right by God’s help because, as the Bible tells us in another place, it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaketh.”

“Your father takes a great deal of pains to teach and help you, dear Lu, doesn’t he?” said Eva.

“Yes, yes, indeed!” returned Lulu, with warmth; “all his children, but especially me, I think, because I’m the naughtiest and have the hardest work trying to be good.  I’m often surprised at papa’s patience with me and the trouble he takes to help me in my hard fight with my passionate, wilful temper.”

Just then Grace’s voice was heard at the door, “Happy New Year, Eva and Lu!  May I come in?”

“Yes, come.  Happy New Year to you,” cried both girls, Lulu running and taking her sister in her arms to hug and kiss her.

“You darling child!  You look bright and well.  Are you?”

“Yes, you old woman,” laughed Gracie, returning the hug and kisses; “and I’m all ready for breakfast.  Are you?”

“No, not quite.”

“I am,” said Eva.  “Shall we go into the sitting-room, Gracie, and wait there for Lu?”

“Yes,” answered Grace, leading the way; “and I’ll be learning my Bible verse while we wait for her and papa and the breakfast bell.”

Lulu and her father joined them at the same moment.

The captain kissed the little girls all around and presented each with a pretty little portemonnaie.

Eva thanked him with smiles, blushes and appreciative words; his own two with hugs and kisses in addition to the thanks given in words.

“Mine’s ever so pretty, papa,” Lulu said, turning it about in her hands.

“I am glad you are pleased with it,” he said, smiling, “but are you going to be satisfied with looking at the outside? don’t you want to examine the lining also?”

“Why, yes, sir?” opening it.  “Oh, oh, it isn’t empty!” she laughed, beginning to take out the contents two clean, crisp one dollar notes, and a handful of bright new quarters, dimes and five cent pieces.  “Papa, how kind and generous you are to me!”

Grace had her purse open by this time and found it lined in like manner with Lulu’s.  “Dear papa, thank you ever so much,” she said, looking up into his face with eyes full of love and gratitude.  “It’s a great deal for me to have beside all the rest you gave me.”

“You are both as welcome as possible, my darlings; only make good use of it, remembering that money is one of the talents for which we must give account to God at last,” he answered to both.

“Eva, my dear,” turning to her, “you will find the same in yours, and I hope will accept it from me as though you were one of my daughters.  Do me the kindness to let me be in some respects, a father to you; since your own is absent in the happy home to which I trust we are all traveling.”

She was standing near, the present he had given her in her hand.  She had been looking from it to Lulu and Grace, thinking the while how good it was in the captain to treat her so much like one of his own, and now at these kind words spoken in tender fatherly tones, both heart and eyes grew full to overflowing.

He saw that she could not speak for emotion, and taking her hand, drew her to his knee and kissed her, saying, “Don’t try to thank me in words, my dear; your speaking countenance tells me all you would say.”

“What you ’bout?” screamed Polly at that instant, just as if she were calling the captain to account for his actions.

That made them all laugh; even Evelyn, who had been just ready to cry.  Then the breakfast bell rang and everybody hastened to obey its summons.

Many a “Happy New Year,” was exchanged among them as they gathered a bright faced, cheerful set in the pleasant breakfast-room and about its bountiful table.

Each had a gift to show, for all had been remembered in that way by either the captain or Violet, some by both, and each one had received or did now receive, something from Grandma Elsie a book, toy or game.

The gifts seemed to give universal satisfaction and all were in gayest spirits.

Shortly after breakfast almost before the children had done with comparing and talking about their presents the other guests began to arrive, and by ten o’clock everybody who had been invited was there.

Then began the fun of arranging themselves in groups and having photographs taken; after that the acting of the charades.

The picture suggested by Violet was taken first.  In it Grandma Elsie was seated between her father on one side, and her namesake daughter on the other, Mrs. Leland having her babe in her arms, while little Ned leaned confidingly against his great-grandfather’s knee.

The captain and Violet, with their two little ones, made another pretty picture.  Then the captain was taken again with his older three grouped about him.  Then Grandma Elsie again with her son Edward and his Zoe, standing behind her, Rosie and Walter one on each side.

She thought this quite enough, but her college boys insisted on having her taken again, seated between them.

It was then proposed that the other members of the company should be taken in turn singly or in groups; but all declined, expressing a decided preference for spending the time in a more amusing manner, such as forming tableaux and acting charades.

The older people took possession of a large parlor and sat there conversing, while the younger ones consulted together and made their arrangements in the library.

Misconstrue was the first word chosen.  Presently Evelyn walked into the parlor, followed almost immediately by Harold with a book in his hand.

“You are here, Miss?” he said glancing at Evelyn.  “And you, Miss?” as Sydney Dinsmore came tripping in from the hall.

“Yes; and here comes another Miss;” she replied, as Lulu appeared in the open doorway.

“I too, am a miss; there are four of us here now,” said Rosie, coming up behind Lulu.

“I am a miss,” proclaimed Maud Dinsmore, stepping in after Rosie.

“And I am a miss,” echoed Lora Howard, coming after her.

“Well, stand up in a row and let us see if you can say your lesson without a miss,” said Harold.

“Oh it’s a spelling school all of girls!” remarked Grace in a low aside to her little friend Rosie Lacey; they two having chosen a place among the spectators rather than with the actors on this occasion.

“Yes,” returned Rosie; “I wonder why they don’t have some of the boys in the class too.”

“When did Columbus discover America, Miss Maud?” asked Harold.

“In 1942,” returned Maud with the air of one who is quite confident of the correctness of her reply.

“A miss for you,” said Harold.  “Next.  When did Columbus discover America?”

“In 1620, just after the landing of the pilgrims,” answered Sydney.

“Another miss,” said Harold.  “Next.”

“Something happened in 1775,” said Eva meditatively.

“Oh!” cried Rosie, “Columbus’ discovery was long before that somewhere about the year 1000, was it not, Mr. Travilla?”

“A miss for each of you,” replied Harold, shaking his head.  “What year was it, Lulu?”

“It must have been before I was born,” she answered slowly, as if not entirely certain “Yes, I’m quite sure it was, and I can’t remember before I was born.”

“A miss for you too,” said Harold.  “You have every one missed and will have to con your task over again.”

At that each girl opened a book which she held in her hand, and for several minutes they all seemed to be studying diligently.

“Ah, ha! ah ha! um h’m! mis-con,” murmured Cousin Ronald, half-aloud; “vara weel done, lads and lasses.  What’s the next syllable? strue?  Ah ha, um h’m! we shall see presently,” as the books were closed and the young actors vanished through the door into the hall.

They were hardly gone when Zoe entered, carrying a small basket filled with flowers which she began to strew here and there over the floor.

“Ah ha! ah ha! um h’m!” cried Cousin Ronald, “she strews the flowers; misconstrue is the word na doot.”

“Ah Cousin Ronald, somebody must have told you,” laughed Zoe, tripping from the room.

“Oh!” cried Rosie Lacey, “I see now why the boys didn’t take part this time; because they couldn’t be miss.”

“Here they come now, boys and girls too,” exclaimed Grace.  “Why how they’re laughing!  I wonder what’s the joke?”

They were all laughing as at something very amusing, and after entering the room did nothing but sit or stand about laughing all the time; fairly shaking with laughter, laughing, laughing till the tears came into their eyes, and the older people joined in without in the least knowing the exciting cause of so much mirth.

“Come, children, tell us the joke,” said Mr. Dinsmore at length.

“O grandpa, can’t you see?” asked Rosie Travilla, and they all hurried from the room, to return presently in a procession, each carrying something in his or her hand.

Harold had a log of wood, Herbert a post, Max a block, Frank the wooden part of an old musket, while Chester, though empty-handed, wore an old fashioned stock or cravat and held his head very stiffly.

Maud, dressed as a huckster, had a basket filled with apples, oranges, nuts and candies.  Sydney, wearing an old cloak and straw hat, had a basket on her arm in which were needles, tapes, buttons, pins, and other small wares such as are often hawked about the streets.

Lulu and Eva brought up the rear, carrying the parrot and Gracie’s kitten.

Maud and Sydney made the circuit of the room, the one crying, “Apples and Oranges! buy any apples and oranges?” the other asking, “Want any pins to-day? needles, buttons, shoe-strings?”

“No,” said Grandma Rose, “Have you nothing else to offer?”

“No, ma’am, this is my whole stock in trade,” replied Sydney.

“I laid in a fresh stock of fruit this morning, ma’am, and it’s good enough for anybody,” sniffed Maud, with indignant air.

“Do you call that a musket, sir?” asked Chester of Frank.

“No, sir; I called it the stock of one.”

“Lulu and Eva, why bring those creatures in here?” asked Herbert, elevating his eyebrows as in astonishment.

“Because they’re our live stock,” replied Lulu.

Now Frank began to play the part of a clown or buffoon, acting in a very silly and stupid manner, while the others looked on laughing and pointing their fingers at him in derision.

“Frank, can’t you behave yourself?” exclaimed Maud.  “It mortifies me to see you making yourself the laughing-stock of the whole company.”

“Laughing-stock laughing-stock,” said several voices among the spectators, the captain adding, “Very well done indeed!”

“Thank you, sir,” said Harold.  “If the company are not tired we will give them one more.”

“Let us have it,” said his grandfather.

Some of the girls now joined the spectators, while Harold drew out a little stand, and he, Chester, and Herbert seated themselves about it with paper and pencils before them, assuming a very business-like air.

Frank had stepped out to the hall.  In a minute or two he returned and walked up to the others, hat in hand.

Bowing low, but awkwardly, “You’re the school committee I understand, gents?” he remarked inquiringly.

“Yes,” said Harold, “and we want a teacher for the school at Sharon.  Have you come to apply for the situation?”

“Yes, sir; I heered tell ye was wantin’ a superior kind o’ male man to take the school fer the winter, and bein’ as I was out o’ a job, I thought I moût as well try my hand at that as enny thin’ else.”

“Take a seat and let us inquire into your qualifications,” said Herbert, waving his hand in the direction of a vacant chair.  “But first tell us your name and where you are from.”

“My name, sir, is Peter Bones, and I come from the town o’ Hardtack in the next county; jest beyant the hill yander.  I’ve a good eddication o’ me own, too, though I never rubbed my back agin a college,” remarked the applicant, sitting down and tilting his chair back on its hind legs, retaining his balance by holding on to the one occupied by Herbert.  “I kin spell the spellin’ book right straight through, sir, from kiver to kiver.”

“But spelling is not the only branch to be taught in the Sharon school,” said Chester.  “What else do you know.”

“The three r’s, sir; reading, ‘ritin,’ and ’rithmetic.”

“You are acquainted with mathematics!”

“Well, no, not so much with Mathy as with his brother Bill; but I know him like a book; fact I might say like several books.”

“Like several books, eh?” echoed Chester in a sarcastic tone; “but how well may you be acquainted with the books?  What’s the meaning of pathology?”

“The science of road making of course, sir; enny fool could answer such a question as that.”

“Could he, indeed?  Well you’ve made a miss, for your answer is wide of the mark.”

“How wide is the Atlantic ocean?” asked Herbert.

“’Bout a thousand miles.”

“Another miss; it’s three thousand.”

“I know it useter to be, years ago, but they’ve got to crossin’ it so quick now that you needn’t tell me it’s more’n a thousand.”

“In what year was the Declaration of Independence signed?” asked Harold.

“Wall now, I don’t jist remember,” returned the applicant, thrusting both hands deep into his pockets and gazing down meditatively at the carpet, “somewheres ’bout 1860, wuzn’t it? no, come to think, I guess ’twas ’63.”

“No, no, no! you are thinking of the proclamation of emancipation.  Another miss.  We don’t find you qualified for the situation; so wish you good day, sir.”

“Ah, ah! ah, ah! um h’m, um h’m! so I should say,” soliloquized Mr. Lilburn, leaning on his goldheaded cane and watching the four lads as they scattered and left the room; “and so this is the end of act the first, I suppose.  Miss, miss, miss, ah that’s the syllable that begins the new word.”

Evelyn now came in with an umbrella in her hand, Grace and Rose Lacey walking a little in her rear.  Evelyn raised the umbrella and turning to the little girls, said pleasantly, “Come under, children, I can’t keep the rain off you unless you are under the umbrella.”  They accepted the invitation and the three moved slowly back and forth across the room several times.

“It’s a nice sort of shelter to be under when it rains,” remarked Rose Lacey.

“Yes, I like to be under it,” said Grace.

“But it is wearisome to walk all the time; let us stand still for a little,” proposed Evelyn.

“Yes; by that stand yonder,” said Grace.

They went to it and stationed themselves there for a moment; then Grace stepped from under the umbrella and seated herself on the carpet under the stand.

“Look, look!” laughed Rose Lacey, “there’s Miss Grace Raymond under the stand; a miss-under-stand.”

A storm of applause, and cries of “Well done, little ones!  Very prettily done indeed!” and Gracie, rosy with blushes, came out from her retreat and ran to hide her face on her father’s shoulder, while he held her close with one arm, softly smoothing her curls with the other hand.

“Don’t be disturbed, darling,” he said; “it is only kind commendation of the way in which Rosie and you have acted your parts.”

“Why you should feel proud and happy, Gracie,” said Zoe, drawing near.  “We are going to have that tableau now in which you are to be a little flower girl.  So come, won’t you? and let me help you dress.”

Tableaux filled up the rest of the morning.

After dinner Harold and Herbert gave an exhibition of tricks of legerdemain, which even the older people found interesting and amusing.  The little ones were particularly delighted with a marvellous shower of candy that ended the performance.

Some of Cousin Ronald’s stories of the heroes of Scottish history and song made the evening pass delightfully.

But at an early hour the whole company, led by Grandpa Dinsmore, united in a short service of prayer, praise, and the reading of the scriptures, and at its close the guests bade good-bye and scattered to their homes.

“Well,” said Max, following the rest of the family into the parlor, after they had seen the last guest depart, “I never had a pleasanter New Year’s day.”

“Nor I either,” said Lulu; “and we had such a delightful time last year too, that I really don’t know which I enjoyed the most.”

“And we have good times all the time since we have a home of our own with our dear father in it,” remarked Grace, taking his hand and carrying it to her lips, while her sweet azure eyes looked up lovingly into his face.

An emphatic endorsement of that sentiment from both Max and Lulu.  Then the captain, smiling tenderly upon them, said, “I dearly love to give you pleasure, my darlings, my heart’s desire is for my children’s happiness in this world and the next; but life can not be all play; so lessons must be taken up again to-morrow morning, and I hope to find you all in an industrious and tractable mood.”

“I should hope so indeed, papa,” returned Max; “if we are not both obedient and industrious we will deserve to be called an ungrateful set.”