Elsies Children | Page 9

to the next, till it sounded like the explosions of many batteries of heavy artillery, now near at hand, now farther and farther away.
"Mamma, isn't it grand?" exclaimed Eddie, in one of the brief pauses in the wild uproar of the elements.
"Yes," she said, "the thunder of his power who can understand?"
"Is it God, mamma? does God make it?" asked little Herbert.
"Yes, dear; 'when he uttereth his voice, there is a multitude of waters in the heavens, and he causeth the vapors to ascend from the ends of the earth; he maketh lightnings with rain, and bringeth forth the wind out of his treasuries.'"
"We needn't be 'f'aid, mamma?"
"No, darling, no; for God is our Father; He loves us and will take care of us."
The storm was very violent while it lasted, but soon passed away; the sun shone out, and a beautiful rainbow spanned the eastern sky above the mountain-tops.
Elsie's children clapped their hands in ecstasy, and ran to call their little friends to enjoy the sight with them. Mrs. Ross followed, looking so pale and exhausted, that Elsie inquired with concern if she were ill.
"Oh, it was the storm!" she said, "wasn't it fearful? I was sure the house would be struck and some of us killed. Weren't you frightened?"
"No," Elsie said, with a kindly reassuring smile, "I presume my nerves are stronger than yours, and I am not naturally timid in regard to thunder and lightning. Besides, I know so well that he who guides and controls it is my Father and my Friend. Come, look at his bow of promise."
The children were in a group about the window, gazing and admiring.
"Let's ask mamma for the story of it," Vi was saying.
"The story of it?" repeated Archie Ross.
"Yes; don't you know? about Noah and the flood."
"I never heard it."
"Oh, Archie, it's in the Bible; grandma told it to us once," exclaimed his sister Gertrude.
"I didn't hear it, anyhow," persisted the boy, "do, Vi, coax Aunt Elsie to tell it."
The petition was readily granted. Mrs. Travilla was an inimitable story-teller, and Lucy, whose knowledge of Scripture history was but superficial, listened to the narrative with almost as much interest and pleasure as did the children.
"I would give anything for your talent for story-telling, Elsie," she said at its conclusion.
"Oh, another! another! Please tell us another?" cried a chorus of young voices.
Mrs. Travilla drew out her watch, and holding it up with a smile, "Not just now, my dears," she said, "see it is almost tea-time, and," she added playfully, "some of us have need to change our dresses and smooth our tangled tresses."
"That is true," said Lucy, rising hastily, "and I expect my husband home. I must send the carriage off at once to the depot; for the train is nearly due."
Thereupon a cry was raised among the Rosses as they flew after their mother, "I want to go for papa!" "and I!" "It's my turn, I say, and I will go!" "No, you shan't, for it's mine."
CHAPTER FIFTH.
"She fed me first to God; Her words and prayers were my young spirit's dew." --PIERPONT.
"Hallo! this looks like welcome; every one of you been crying!" Mr. Ross said, catching up Sophie in his arms, and glancing about upon his group of children, after an affectionate greeting to his wife, and a cordially kind one to their guest.
"What's the trouble? so sorry papa was coming home, eh?"
"No, no, that wasn't it, papa," they cried, crowding around him, each eager to claim the first caress, "it wasn't that, but we wanted to go for you, and mamma wouldn't let us."
"Yes," said Lucy, "they all wanted to go and as that couldn't be, and no one would give up to the others, I kept them all at home."
"Quite right," he said, gravely, "I'm afraid you hardly deserve the pretty gifts I have brought."
"Oh, yes, yes, papa, we'll be good next time! Indeed we will! Mamma, coax him!"
"Yes, do let them have them, Phil," urged his wife, "where would be the use of keeping the things back after spending your money for them?"
"To teach them a good lesson. I'm afraid both you and I are foolishly indulgent, Lucy."
"Oh, they'll be good next time."
"This once then, but only this once, unless they keep their word," he said, producing his gifts--a book or toy for each of his own children, and a package of sweetmeats which he divided among all present.
He had brought a new dog home with him, but no one but Eddie had noticed it yet. He was stroking and patting it, saying, "Poor fellow, what kind of a dog are you?"
"A French poodle," said Mr. Ross, coming up to them, "A good watch dog, and excellent for scaring up the wild ducks for the sportsmen. Do you and papa keep up the shooting