Beulah | Page 5

should like the fun of seeing him stagger and wheel over
and over, and tumble off the limb, so that I might run and catch him in
my apron. Do you think I would give him to our matron to make a pie?
No, you might take off my fingers first!" And the little elf snapped
them emphatically in Beulah's face.
"Make a pie of robies, indeed! I would starve before I would eat a piece
of it," chimed in Lilly, with childish horror at the thought.
Claudia laughed with mingled mischief and chagrin. "You say you
would not eat a bit of roby-pie to save your life? Well, you did it last
week, anyhow."

"Oh, Claudy, I didn't!"
"Oh, but you did! Don't you remember Susan picked up a bird last
week that fell out of this very tree, and gave it to our matron? Well,
didn't we have bird-pie for dinner?"
"Yes, but one poor little fellow would not make a pie."
"They had some birds already that came from the market, and I heard
Mrs. Williams tell Susan to put it in with the others. So, you see, you
did eat roby-pie, and I didn't, for I knew what was in it. I saw its head
wrung off!"
"Well, I hope I did not get any of roby. I won't eat any more pie till
they have all gone," was Lilly's consolatory reflection. Chancing to
glance toward the gate, she exclaimed:
"There is a carriage."
"What is to-day? Let me see--Wednesday. Yes, this is the evening for
the ladies to meet here. Lil, is my face right clean? because that
red-headed Miss Dorothy always takes particular pains to look at it.
She rubbed her pocket-handkerchief over it the other day. I do hate her,
don't you?" cried Claudia, springing up and buttoning the band of her
apron sleeve, which had become unfastened.
"Why, Claudy, I am astonished to hear you talk so. Miss Dorothy helps
to buy food and clothes for us, and you ought to be ashamed to speak of
her as you do." As she delivered this reprimand Beulah snatched up a
small volume and hid it in her work-basket.
"I don't believe she gives us much. I do hate her, and I can't help it; she
is so ugly, and cross, and vinegar-faced. I should not like her to look at
my mug of milk. You don't love her either, any more than I do, only
you won't say anything about her. But kiss me, and I promise I will be
good, and not make faces at her in my apron." Beulah stooped down
and warmly kissed the suppliant, then took her little sister's hand and
led her into the house, just as the carriage reached the door. The

children presented a pleasant spectacle as they entered the long dining
room, and ranged themselves for inspection. Twenty-eight heirs of
orphanage, varying in years, from one crawling infant to well-nigh
grown girls, all neatly clad, and with smiling, contented faces, if we
except one grave countenance, which might have been remarked by the
close observer.
The weekly visiting committee consisted of four of the lady managers,
but to-day the number was swelled to six. A glance at the inspectors
sufficed to inform Beulah that something of more than ordinary interest
had convened them on the present occasion, and she was passing on to
her accustomed place when her eyes fell upon a familiar face, partially
concealed by a straw bonnet. It was her Sabbath-school teacher. A
sudden, glad light flashed over the girl's countenance, and the pale lips
disclosed a set of faultlessly beautiful teeth, as she smiled and hastened
to her friend.
"How do you do, Mrs. Mason? I am so glad to see you!"
"Thank you, Beulah; I have been promising myself this pleasure a great
while. I saw Eugene this morning, and told him I was coming out. He
sent you a book and a message. Here is the book. You are to mark the
passages you like particularly, and study them well until he comes.
When did you see him last?"
Mrs. Mason put the volume in her hand as she spoke.
"It has been more than a week since he was here, and I was afraid he
was sick. He is very kind and good to remember the book he promised
me, and I thank you very much, Mrs. Mason, for bringing it." The face
was radiant with newborn joy, but it all died out when Miss Dorothea
White (little Claudia's particular aversion) fixed her pale blue eyes
upon her, and asked, in a sharp, discontented tone:
"What ails that girl, Mrs. Williams? She does not work enough or she
would have some blood in her cheeks. Has she been sick?"
"No,