The Wide, Wide World. Warner Susan

know what you think, though, Mamma, and I daresay you are right, too; I won't take it, though it's a pity. Well, I must look again."

      Mrs. Montgomery came to her help, for it was plain Ellen had lost the power of judging amidst so many tempting objects. But she presently simplified the matter by putting aside all that were decidedly too large or too small, or of too fine print. There remained three of moderate size and sufficiently large type, but different binding. "Either of these, I think, will answer your purpose nicely," said Mrs. Montgomery.

      "Then, Mamma, if you please, I will have the red one. I like that best, because it will put me in mind of yours."

      Mrs. Montgomery could find no fault with this reason. She paid for the red Bible, and directed it to be sent home.

      "Shan't I carry it, Mamma?" said Ellen.

      "No, you would find it in the way; we have several things to do yet."

      "Have we, Mamma? I thought we only came to get a Bible."

      "That is enough for one day, I confess. I am a little afraid your head will be turned, but I must run the risk of it. I dare not lose the opportunity of this fine weather; I may not have such another. I wish to have the comfort of thinking, when I am away, that I have left you with everything necessary to the keeping up of good habits everything that will make them pleasant and easy. I wish you to be always neat, and tidy, and industrious; depending upon others as little as possible; and careful to improve yourself by every means, and especially by writing to me. I will leave you no excuse, Ellen, for failing in any of these duties. I trust you will not disappoint me in a single particular."

      Ellen's heart was too full to speak. She again looked up tearfully, and pressed her mother's hand.

      "I do not expect to be disappointed, love," returned Mrs.

       Montgomery.

      They now entered a large fancy store.

      "What are we to get here, Mamma?" said Ellen.

      "A box to put your pens and paper in," said her mother, smiling.

      "Oh, to be sure," said Ellen; "I had almost forgotten that."

      She quite forgot it a minute after. It was the first time she had seen the inside of such a store, and the articles displayed on every side completely bewitched her. From one thing to another she went, admiring and wondering; in her wildest dreams she had never imagined such beautiful things. The store was fairyland.

      Mrs. Montgomery meanwhile attended to business. Having chosen a neat little japanned dressing-box, perfectly plain, but well supplied with everything a child could want in that line, she called Ellen from the delightful journey of discovery she was making round the store, and asked her what she thought of it. "I think it's a little beauty," said Ellen; "but I never saw such a place for beautiful things."

      "You think it will do, then?" said her mother.

      "For me, Mamma! You don't mean to give it to me? Oh, mother, how good you are! But I know what is the best way to thank you, and I'll do it. What a perfect little beauty! Mamma, I'm too happy!"

      "I hope not," said her mother; "for you know I haven't got you the box for your pens and paper yet."

      "Well, Mamma, I'll try and bear it," said Ellen, laughing. "But do get me the plainest little thing in the world, for you're giving me too much."

      Mrs. Montgomery asked to look at writing-desks, and was shown to another part of the store for the purpose.

      "Mamma," said Ellen, in a low tone, as they went, "you're not going to get me a writing-desk?"

      "Why, that is the best kind of box for holding writing materials," said her mother, smiling; "don't you think so?"

      "I don't know what to say!" exclaimed Ellen. "I can't thank you, Mamma; I haven't any words to do it. I think I shall go crazy."

      She was truly overcome with the weight of happiness. Words failed her, and tears came instead.

      From among a great many desks of all descriptions, Mrs. Montgomery with some difficulty succeeded in choosing one to her mind. It was of mahogany, not very large, but thoroughly well made and finished, and very convenient and perfect in its internal arrangements. Ellen was speechless; occasional looks at her mother, and deep sighs, were all she had now to offer. The desk was quite empty.

      "Ellen," said her mother, "do you remember the furniture of

       Miss Allen's desk, that you were so pleased with a while ago?"

      "Perfectly, Mamma; I know all that was in it."

      "Well, then, you must prompt me if I forget anything. Your desk will be furnished with everything really useful. Merely showy matters we can dispense with. Now let us see here is a great empty place that I think wants some paper to fill it. Show me some of different sizes, if you please."

      The shopman obeyed, and Mrs. Montgomery stocked the desk well with letter-paper, large and small. Ellen looked on in great satisfaction. "That will do nicely," she said; "that large paper will be beautiful whenever I am writing to you, Mamma, you know; and the other will do for other times, when I haven't so much to say; though I am sure I don't know who there is in the world I should ever send letters to, except you."

      "If there is nobody now, perhaps there will be at some future time," replied her mother. "I hope I shall not always be your only correspondent. Now, what next?"

      "Envelopes, Mamma?"

      "To be sure; I had forgotten them. Envelopes of both sizes to match."

      "Because, Mamma, you know I might, and I certainly shall, want to write upon the fourth page of my letter, and I couldn't do it unless I had envelopes."

      A sufficient stock of envelopes was laid in.

      "Mamma," said Ellen, "what do you think of a little note- paper?"

      "Who are the notes to be written to, Ellen?" said Mrs.

       Montgomery smiling.

      "You needn't smile, Mamma; you know, as you said, if I don't know now, perhaps I shall by-and-by. Miss Allen's desk had note-paper that made me think of it."

      "So shall yours, daughter; while we are about it, we will do the thing well. And your note-paper will keep quite safely in this nice little place provided for it, even if you should not want to use a sheet of it in half-a-dozen years."

      "How nice that is!" said Ellen, admiringly.

      "I suppose the note-paper must have envelopes too," said Mrs.

       Montgomery.

      "To be sure, Mamma; I suppose so," said Ellen, smiling; "Miss

       Allen's had."

      "Well, now we have got all the paper we want, I think," said Mrs. Montgomery; "the next thing is ink or an inkstand, rather."

      Different kinds were presented for her choice.

      "Oh, Mamma, that one won't do," said Ellen, anxiously; "you know the desk will be knocking about in a trunk, and the ink would run out, and spoil every thing. It should be one of those that shut tight. I don't see the right kind here."

      The shopman brought one.

      "There, Mamma do you see?" said Ellen. "It shuts with a spring, and nothing can possibly come out. Do you see, Mamma. You can turn it topsy-turvy."

      "I see you are quite right, daughter; it seems I should get on very ill without you to advise me. Fill the inkstand, if you please."

      "Mamma, what shall I do when my ink is gone? that inkstand will hold but a little, you know."

      "Your aunt will supply you, of course, my dear, when you are out."

      "I'd rather take some of my own, by half," said Ellen.

      "You could not carry a bottle of ink in your desk without great danger to every thing else