CHAPTER VIII.

THE AUGUST TREE.

WHEN the buds began to swell, the crocuses to push their bright-colored blossoms out of the ground, and the golden robins to sing, mamma said it was time for the little ones to be in the country. The Rector did not say nay, though he must stay a good many weeks longer to take care of his parish.

The children began to dance and clap their hands at the idea of going to the farm where they always had such a happy time, where there was plenty of nice milk and cream, and, in the summer, fruit and berries in abundance.

Mamma and Sarah were often now in earnest consultation about the packing. There were calls to make, too, and shopping for the summer; so the month of May was a busy time at the rectory, you may be sure.

Early in June, when the roses were in bloom, and the peach trees were garlanded with their beautiful blossoms, the transit was made, and one evening after a very tedious journey of over two hundred miles, our travellers found themselves in their summer home by the sea.

And now the happy days commenced, and life seemed one long dream of innocent enjoyment.

Aunt Josephine, with Ida, Rose, Forrest, and baby, came a few days later, then grandma, Russell, and Aunt Mary, so that there was a large company to be merry with. And then there was the pleasure of expecting the two papas, who came for a day or two now and then.

On the lawn in front of the spacious mansion, there was a game of croquet, which in fine weather occupied both old and young for many an hour; while for the little ones a long, unfinished hall over the shed was the scene of daily frolics.

Russell, who had declared himself a candidate for orders, built a pulpit at one end, which was really quite an ingenious affair. In this, he officiated as minister nearly every day in the week. Here, too, they kept store, played "come and see," or rolled hoop in rainy weather.

Out of doors, the chickens, the lambs, and the pony were unfailing sources of delight. Star, indeed, was a very important character. He was of a light sorrel color, with a white spot in his forehead, from which he received his name. The pony was the especial property of Master Forrest, a lad of twelve, the oldest of all the cousins.

Uncle George, his papa, thought him too old to spend all his summer in play, so he bought a working-cart for Star, and sent the boy out occasionally to labor with the hired men.

There was also a pony carriage, in which four of the cousins rode regularly to church.

I suppose some little girls and boys will inquire whether Helen, Ida, and Forrest studied any in those bright days. To be sure they did, though the lessons were short. When the trunks were packed, Sarah put in Helen's books, "just so that she sha'n't forget all she knows," mamma said.

In the winter she had been studying very hard, and was getting on finely. Now she had a short lesson in geography, history, and French; and Ida recited with her.

Forrest recited, too, to his mamma; but his delight was to get a new book, when he would seat himself in the midst of the children and devour it. They might talk, and laugh, and sing, and shout; but he heard nothing.

Forrest was a manly boy, rather grave and reserved, quite unlike his Cousin Russell, who was always ready for any kind of fun.

[Illustration: THE AUGUST TREE.]

I wish my little readers could see Lily and Rose, and how merrily the days passed with them; or that I had time to tell you more of Russell and Berty, at their boyish plays in the hall. But I must hasten to give you an account of an August tree, and the celebration that accompanied it.

The little folks—there were nine in all—had been very good through the long warm days, and the two mammas were quite willing to afford them any reasonable pleasure.

So, when, one morning, Russell said, "Oh, I wish it was Christmas!"

And Helen answered, "We can have an August tree, as well as a Christmas tree."

A ready consent was given to her earnest request.

The plan was at last arranged; a beautiful spruce tree brought from the woods; and then Aunt Josey wrote tiny notes inviting the guests.

There were the farmer and his wife and family, the carpenter and the painter, with their families, all dependents of the great house; each must come to the August tree, have his or her present, and stay to the big supper.

What a busy time that was, and how earnestly the children consulted in regard to suitable gifts, and the decorations of their tree! In the kitchen what a clatter of dishes and of tongues, beating of eggs and sugar! Russell, who seemed to be everywhere, ran at last to announce the fact that the cake had come out of the oven and smelled real good.

The day so long and eagerly anticipated came at last, and at an early hour the children's voices rung through the house.

The guests had all signified their pleasure at the invitation, and their resolution to be "on hand." The celebration was to be in the afternoon; but the little folks had enough to do to keep themselves busy till about eleven. After this, the hours lagged terribly. Russell thought the clock had stopped, and Helen said, earnestly,—

"I do wish two o'clock would come."

Frank Follen, the farmer's boy, came first, dressed in his Sunday suit, with his face scrubbed till it shone. Then Mr. Pratt, the carpenter, made his appearance, followed by his entire family; and after this, not ten minutes elapsed before every guest had been ushered into his or her seat.

The tree having been greatly admired, the company were requested to go downstairs and stand under the window.

This made a good deal of laugh; even the Rector was observed to grow quite red in the face; but, under Master Russell's excellent management, the request was carried out.

Ida and Helen then took the gift from the tree, called out the name of the one to receive it, and began to let it down by a cord tied to a basket.

This part of the entertainment consumed nearly an hour, but was enjoyed amazingly.

Mr. Follen handled the little necktie, which fell to him, as daintily as if it had been china, saying with a laugh,—

"I shall think a heap of this ere, Miss Helen."

When the presentations were over, the guests were invited to the dining-room, where the children waited on them.

Everybody had a good time, and were loud in their praises of the August tree.

At an early hour the children went to bed, weary, it is true, but happy in the consciousness that they had made others so; while the two papas and mammas rejoiced that their children so early showed a disposition to contribute to the comfort of those about them, and especially that in all their plays they remembered the apostle's injunction, "Be kindly affectioned one to another."