Little Miss Peggy: Only a Nursery Story. Molesworth Mrs.

Mamma'll let us if you will."

      "And the pipes?" said nurse. "There was six new got the last time, and they were to last, certain sure till the next time, and then – "

      "Oh I know," said Thor, "we took them to school and never brought them back. Never mind – we'll get some more from old Mother Whelan. She always keeps lots. We'll keep our halfpennies for two Saturdays – that'll do. But we must be going, Terry and Baldwin. I'm all ready."

      And he jumped up as he spoke, and pulled his satchel of books from under his chair, where he had put them to be all ready. Baldwin slowly got down from his place, for he was not only broad, but his legs were very short, and came up to nurse to be helped on with his little overcoat, while Terence began rushing about the room in a fuss, looking for one of his books, which as usual couldn't be found at the last minute.

      "I had it just before breakfast, I'm sure I had," he went on repeating. "I haven't finished learning it, and I meant to look it over. Oh dear, what shall I do?"

      The nursery party was too accustomed to Terry's misfortunes to be much upset by them. Peggy sat still for a moment or two considering. Then she spoke.

      "Terry," she said, "look in Baby's cot."

      Off flew Terence, returning in triumph, grammar in hand.

      "I'll learn it on the way to school. How did you know it was there, Peggy?"

      "I sawed you reaching over to kiss Baby when you comed in to ask nurse for a new shoe-lace this morning," said Peggy, with great pride.

      "Good girl," said Terence, as he slammed the door and rushed downstairs to overtake his two brothers.

      The nursery seemed very quiet when the three big boys had gone. Quiet but not idle; there was always a great deal to do first thing of a morning, and Peggy had her own share of the doing to see to. She took off her own breakfast pinafore and put on a quite clean one – one that looked quite clean anyway, just as if it had never been on, even though it had really been used two or three times. Peggy called it her "prayers pinafore," and it always lasted a whole week, as it was only worn to go down to the dining-room for five or ten minutes. Then she washed her hands and stood still for nurse to give a tidying touch to her soft fair hair, though it really didn't need it, – Peggy's hair never looked messy, – and then she took off Hal's over pinafore which he wore on the top of his blouse at meal-times, and helped him to wash his hands, by which time nurse and baby were also ready, and the little procession set off on their journey. If the prayers bell had not sounded yet, or did not sound as they made their way down, nurse would stop at mamma's door and tap, and the answer was sure to be "Come in." Then nurse would go on downstairs with Baby, and Peggy and Hal would trot in to see mamma, and wait a moment or two till she was ready. She was almost always nearly ready, unless she was very, very tired; and in that case she would tell them to go downstairs and come up and see her again after prayers, as she was going to have breakfast in bed. They rather liked these days, though of course they were sorry for mamma to be so tired, but it was very interesting to watch her having her breakfast, and generally one or two dainty bits of toast and marmalade would find their way to the two little mouths.

      It was only since last winter that mamma had been so often tired and not able to get up early. Before then she used always to come up to the nursery to see her six children at breakfast, and prayers were early enough for the three boys to stay for them, instead of having them at school. For mamma was not at all a "lazy" mother, as you might think if I did not explain. But last winter she had been very ill indeed, so ill that papa looked dreadfully unhappy, and the boys had to take off their boots downstairs so as not to make any noise when they passed her door, and the days seemed very long to Peggy and Hal, worst to Peggy of course, for Hal was still so little that almost all his life belonged to the nursery. It was during that time that Peggy first found out the white spot on the hill, which I am going to tell you about, for she used to climb up on the window-sill and sit there looking out at whatever there was to see for hours at a time.

      This morning mamma was evidently not tired, for just as the children got to the landing on to which her door opened, out she came.

      "Well, darlings," she said, "there you are! Have the boys got off to school all rightly, nurse?"

      "Oh yes, ma'am," nurse was beginning, but Peggy interrupted her.

      "Terry loosed his book, mamma dear, and Peg —I founded it; I knewed where it was 'cos I used my eyes like you said."

      "That was a very good thing," said mamma. She had talked to Peggy about using her eyes a good deal, for Peggy had rather a trick of going to sleep with her eyes open, like many children, and it becomes a very tiresome trick if it isn't cured, and makes one miss a great many chances of being useful to others, and of enjoying pleasant things one's self. "Poor Terry – I wish he wasn't so careless. Where was his book this time?"

      "In such a funny place, mamma dear," said Peggy. "In Baby's cot," and at the sound of his name Baby crowed, which made both Peggy and Hal burst out laughing, so that mamma had to hold their hands firmly to prevent their tumbling down stairs.

      After prayers were over nurse took Baby and Hal away, but papa said Peggy might stay for a few minutes.

      "I've scarcely seen you the last day or two, old woman," he said; "you were fast asleep when I came home. What have you been about?"

      "About," Peggy repeated, looking puzzled.

      "Well – what have you been doing with yourself?" he said again.

      "I've been doing nothing with myself," Peggy replied, gravely. "I've done my lessons and my sewing, and I've used my eyes."

      "Well, and isn't all that yourself?" asked papa, who was rather a tease. "You've done your sewing with your fingers and your lessons with your mind, and you've used your eyes for both – mind, fingers, eyes – those are all parts of yourself."

      Peggy spread out her two hands on the table and looked at the ten pink fingers.

      "Them's my fingers," she said, "but I don't know where that other thing is – that what thinks. I'd like to know where it is. Papa, can't you tell me?"

      There came a puzzled look into her soft gray eyes – mamma knew that look; when it stayed long it was rather apt to turn into tears.

      "Arthur," she said to Peggy's papa, "you're too fond of teasing. Peggy dear, nobody can see that part of you; there are many things we can't ever see, or hear, or touch, which are real things all the same."

      Peggy's face lightened up again. She nodded her head softly, as if to say that she understood. Then she got down from her chair and went up to her father to kiss him and say good-bye.

      "Going already, Peg!" he said. "Don't you like papa teasing you?"

      "I don't mind," said Peggy, graciously; "you're only a big boy, papa. I'm going 'cos nurse wants me to keep Baby quiet while she makes the beds."

      But when she got round to the other side of the table to her mother, she lingered a moment.

      "Mamma," she whispered, "it's not there this morning – Peggy's fairy house. It's all hided up. Mamma – "

      "Well, darling?"

      "Are you sure it'll come back again?"

      "Quite sure, dear. It's only hidden by the clouds, as I've told you before. You know you've often been afraid it was gone, and it's always come again."

      "Yes, to be sure," said Peggy. "What a silly little girl I am, mamma dear."

      And she laughed her own little gentle laugh. I can't tell how it was that Peggy's little laugh used sometimes to bring tears to her mother's eyes.

      When she got up to the nursery again she found she was very much wanted. Nurse was in the night nursery which opened into the day one, and looked out to the back of the house just as the other looked to the front. And Baby was sitting on the hearth-rug, with Hal beside him, both seeming far from happy.

      "Baby's defful c'oss, Peggy," said poor Hal.

      And Baby, though he couldn't speak, pouted out his lips and looked very savage at Hal, which of course was very unreasonable and ungrateful of