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Author of "Ingleside," "A Matter of Honor," "Gentle-Heart Stories," "Two Knights-Errant," "Little Saint Hilary," "Christine's Inspiration"
[Illustration: "'OH, PAPA! _PAPA_! SURELY YOU ARE NOT GOING TO _BURN_ THE _FETICH_!'"]
New York Dodd, Mead and Company 1896 Copyright, 1896, by Dodd, Mead and Co. All rights reserved.
University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
_"Thou hast done well thy part, if Thou hast done thy best; As sure as I am God, I answer For the rest."_
When papa said positively that only Phil could go to college, we all felt so badly for Felix that we held a council in the schoolroom that very afternoon. At least, six of us did; the other four had been ruled out by Felix, who declared that "kids were not allowed in council." Paul and Mädel didn't mind so much,--they're the twins, they're only seven years old; nor did Alan,--he's the baby; but Kathie was awfully mad: you see, she's nearly ten, and she does love to hear all that's going on. When she gets crying, there's no stopping her, and I tell you she made things pretty lively round that schoolroom for a little while. How she did howl! We were so afraid she'd start Alan, and that the noise would reach papa's study; good-bye then to our council. We got provoked with Kathie; it was so silly of her to stand there crying like a big baby, and keeping us back that way.
First Phil called out, "You just stop, this minute, Kathie!" and then, when she kept right on, he threw the old sofa pillow at her, and told her to go smother herself; Nora said, "Horrid child!" in her most disgusted tone, and Nannie and Betty coaxed and coaxed, trying to quiet her.
But nothing had any effect until Felix limped over to his easel. Felix is lame,--dear old Fee!--but my! isn't he clever! Greek and Latin are just as easy as--as--anything to him, and he writes stories and poems,--though nobody knows this 'cept us children and Miss Marston, and we wouldn't tell for the world,--and he paints the most _beautiful_ pictures you ever saw. Well, as I was telling you, he limped over to his easel, and took up his brush. "Just keep that charming expression on your face a few minutes longer, Kathie," he said, "until I get it on canvas; and I'll paint your picture as the 'Schoolroom Vixen,' and send it to the Academy. That's right, open your mouth _just_ a little wider--what a wonderful cavern!--hullo! why'd you stop crying? I'm not half through."