Aunt Jos Scrap-Bag, Vol. 5 | Page 7

making quaint, wise, or loving remarks.
Well, "they sailed and they sailed," and came at last to Fayal, where
everything was so new and strange that Annie's big brown eyes could
hardly spare time to sleep, so busy were they looking about. The
donkeys amused her very much, so did the queer language and ways of
the Portuguese people round her, especially the very droll names given
to the hens of a young friend. The biddies seemed to speak the same
dialect as at home, but evidently they understood Spanish also, and
knew their own names, so it was fun to go and call Rio, Pico, Cappy,
Clarissa, Whorfie, and poor Simonena, whose breast-bone grew out so
that she could not eat and had to be killed.
But the thing which made the deepest impression on Annie was a visit
to a charity-school at the old convent of San Antonio. It was kept by
some kind ladies, and twenty-five girls were taught and cared for in the
big, bare place, that looked rather gloomy and forlorn to people from
happy Boston, where charitable institutions are on a noble scale, as
everybody knows.
Annie watched all that went on with intelligent interest, and when they
were shown into the play-room she was much amazed and afflicted to
find that the children had nothing to play with but a heap of rags, out of
which they made queer dolls, with ravelled twine for hair, faces rudely

drawn on the cloth, and funny boots on the shapeless legs. No other
toys appeared, but the girls sat on the floor of the great stone room,--for
there was no furniture,--playing contentedly with their poor dolls, and
smiling and nodding at "the little Americana," who gravely regarded
this sad spectacle, wondering how they could get on without china and
waxen babies, tea-sets, and pretty chairs and tables to keep house with.
The girls thought that she envied them their dolls, and presently one
came shyly up to offer two of their best, leaving the teacher to explain
in English their wish to be polite to their distinguished guest. Like the
little gentlewoman she was, Annie graciously accepted the ugly bits of
rag with answering nods and smiles, and carried them away with her as
carefully as if they were of great beauty and value.
But when she was at home she expressed much concern and distress at
the destitute condition of the children. Nothing but rags to play with
seemed a peculiarly touching state of poverty to her childish mind, and
being a generous creature she yearned to give of her abundance to "all
the poor orphans who didn't have any nice dollies." She had several
pets of her own, but not enough to go round even if she sacrificed them,
so kind grandmamma, who had been doing things of this sort all her
life, relieved the child's perplexity by promising to send twenty-five
fine dolls to Fayal as soon as the party returned to Boston, where these
necessaries of child-life are cheap and plenty.
Thus comforted, Annie felt that she could enjoy her dear Horta and
Chica Pico Fatiera, particular darlings rechristened since her arrival. A
bundle of gay bits of silk, cloth, and flannel, and a present of money for
books, were sent out to the convent by the ladies. A treat of little
cheeses for the girls to eat with their dry bread was added, much to
Annie's satisfaction, and helped to keep alive her interest in the school
of San Antonio.
After many pleasant adventures during the six months spent in the city,
our party came sailing home again all the better for the trip, and Annie
so full of tales to tell that it was a never-failing source of amusement to
hear her hold forth to her younger brother in her pretty way, "splaining
and 'scribing all about it."

Grandmamma's promise was faithfully kept, and Annie brooded
blissfully over the twenty-five dolls till they were dressed, packed, and
sent away to Fayal. A letter of thanks soon came back from the teacher,
telling how surprised and delighted the girls were, and how they talked
of Annie as if she were a sort of fairy princess who in return for two
poor rag-babies sent a miraculous shower of splendid china ladies with
gay gowns and smiling faces.
This childish charity was made memorable to all who knew of it by the
fact that three months after she came home from that happy voyage
Annie took the one from which there is no return. For this journey there
was needed no preparation but a little white gown, a coverlet of flowers,
and the casket where the treasure of many hearts was tenderly laid
away. All alone, but not afraid, little Annie crossed the unknown sea