“I wish you would stay here a hundred years!” said little Bertie to his aunt, one day.  “I wish she would stay for ever and ever, and longer too!” said Fred.  “What do you go back to your old school for?” said Bertie.  “My school!” said Aunt Patience.  “I have not any school, and never had any.”—­“Why,” exclaimed the little boy, “my mamma said you were a lady of the old school!”

Then mamma and auntie had a merry laugh; and the boys were informed that mamma only meant that Aunt Patience was a very polite lady of the olden time.

The boys constantly forgot to call her “auntie,” but remembered the title of “great,” and the precious old lady was just as well pleased to have them call her “Great Patience.”

When she bade them good-by, they both cried, though Fred was very private about his tears; and both boys declared that the best visitors they ever had were “Great Patience and her little red lion.”

MAMMA.

[Illustration]

  CROSSING THE BROOK.

  Over the stepping-stones, one foot and then another;
  And here we are safe on dry land, little brother.

[Illustration]

NELLIE’S LITTLE BROTHER.

When Nellie was quite young, she lost her dear mother; and two sad years passed by for the little girl.  She used to go and look at her mother’s portrait, and wonder whether she could see Nellie, though Nellie could not see her.

But, at last, her father gave her a new mother, who was so kind and good, that Nellie loved her very much; though she never could forget her first dear mother.  One happy day, Nellie learned that a little brother had been born.  How glad she was then!

Some weeks passed by before Nellie was allowed to take the little fellow in her arms; but, when she was permitted to do this, it seemed to her that she had never felt such delight before.  When he would put up his tiny hands, and feel of her face, she was ready to weep with joy.

But one night the nurse was ill; and there was nobody to take care of the baby.  Nellie begged so hard to be allowed to sit up and attend to it, that she was at last permitted to do so.  She passed two hours, watching baby as he slept, and thinking of the nice times she would have with him when he grew up.

At last he awoke; and then Nellie gave him some milk from the porringer, and tried to rock him to sleep again.  But the little fellow wanted a frolic:  so she had to take him in her arms, and walk about the room with him.

She walked and walked till it got to be twelve o’clock; and then she stood in the faint lamplight, before the portrait of her own mother, and it seemed as if the sweet face were trying to speak to her.

But Nellie was so very sleepy, that she hardly knew what she was about.  She walked, like one in a dream,—­from the bed to the cradle, and from the cradle to the bed,—­and all at once baby seemed quiet, and she was walking no longer.