CHAPTER VI.

JOSEPH'S PASSION.

FOR two or three days, grandma had been much occupied in her room.

When the children ran in to see her, she always received them with a smile; but Berty noticed that she threw a towel over something she had in her lap. It was near the close of the week of their visit before he found out what she was doing; and then it came out that she had made a beautiful ball for him and a doll for Ida.

I think Aunt Mary had been in the secret; for Rosa, as the dolly was called, had a full suit, which the child could take off and put on, and a nice night-gown for her to wear to bed.

[Illustration]

Perhaps you can imagine Ida's delight when she saw it. To be sure she had at home a porcelain doll, with a thin gauze dress; but this was nothing compared with Miss Rosa, who could boast a mantilla, bonnet, and pocket handkerchief. Rosa had a tiny apron, too, with a pocket in it; and what do you think was in the pocket?

Why, a little bit of a note, scarcely larger than a bean. In the note was written, in grandma's own hand—

"For a little girl who is trying to please God."

For the rest of the day Ida went up and down stairs and through the garden, carrying Miss Rosa. Everybody was pleased to see how happy she was with grandma's present.

Did I say everybody? There was one who was not at all pleased. This was her Cousin Joseph. He did not like it that grandma should spend so much time in making presents for Berty and Ida, when, as he said, she had never made him one in her life. This was not true. She had sent to the city for a beautiful picture-book, and had taken pains to line every leaf with linen; but the book had been torn to pieces within a week, and the old lady was quite discouraged from making anything else.

Toward night, Mr. Mason invited his friends to walk to the end of the garden, where he was setting out an orchard of pear-trees. They did so, leaving the children at play in the room with grandma and Aunt Mary.

On their return, Mrs. Kent was quite alarmed at hearing loud screams of anger and distress, above which Mary's voice rose, shouting for help.

The party hurried onward, though Mr. Mason; who had been interrupted in his talk, said angrily—

"It's some of master Jo's work, I'll be bound."

Mrs. Kent reached the scene first, and saw Berty shielding himself behind a door, his face pale with fright. Ida was sobbing in her grandmother's arms, while Mary, with the assistance of the servant, was holding Joseph in a chair by main force.

"What is it? What is the matter?" inquired Mrs. Kent, much alarmed.

"Look at Ida's face; and you will see," answered Mary, half crying. "I believe this wicked boy would have killed her, if we hadn't held him."

"I hate her! I do! I wish she'd go home! I hate Berty, too!" screamed Joseph, struggling to be free.

"Let mother see, darling," said Mrs. Kent, tenderly taking Ida in her arms.

Grandma sat rocking herself to and fro, tears streaming down her pale face, too much agitated to speak.

"O Ida!" sobbed her mother. "My poor darling."

Mr. Mason caught a glimpse of the torn face, which was still bleeding. And, only stopping to ask—"Did Joseph do that?"—seized the boy and gave him a blow with his fist, which sent him sprawling on the floor.

"Have you any arnica?" asked Mr. Kent, his mouth growing every moment more stern. "Mary, won't you wet a cloth and lay on the face? I shall send for a physician at once. I fear the eye is seriously injured."

Mrs. Kent held Ida fast in her arms, whispering, tenderly, "My poor darling, mamma will take care of her."

She was greatly affected when the child pulled her down and whispered—

"I was naughty, too, mamma. When he pulled my dolly away, I struck him, and called him ugly boy. I'm sorry now, mamma. Won't Jesus love me any more?"

All were so intent on attending to Ida, and so glad to be relieved from Joseph's noise, that for a time he lay on the floor unheeded. But presently grandma said, sharply—

"Look! That boy is in a fit. He's foaming at the mouth."

His father took him up and carried him into the bedroom, where he lay when the doctor drove up to the door.

He looked first at Ida, called it an ugly scratch, thought likely there would be a scar under the eye. The under lid was torn through. For this, he advised cold applications and a darkened room. It would take time, he said, to heal it.

Then he followed Aunt Mary to the bedroom—Mr. Kent carrying his little daughter to his own chamber, where he determined she should stay till they started for home.

When he returned to the sitting-room, all was confusion. Mr. Mason was bringing in a tub for a warm bath, while his wife held Joseph's head, crying as if her heart would break.

"It's just what I always told you," she exclaimed, sobbing. "You've killed him with your heavy blow. Oh, dear! I can't bear it."

"You had better be calm, Mrs. Mason," said the doctor. "There will be a great deal to do for the sick boy."

Seeing that her wild grief rendered her unfit to be of use, Mr. Kent led her from the room, and, assisted by Mary, undressed the boy and put him in the bath, the doctor at the same time trying to force some drops between his closed teeth.