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“I just pulled you out and pumped the water out of you and—and here you are,” was Bob’s explanation of the episode. “Thought I would,” answered Jerry shortly, but halting. Pshaw! how silly people were! And now came Olea, the cook from his own home, weeping and wailing aloud. When she saw him she was ready to drop with astonishment. “Oh, you angel John! Are you risen from the dead? They brought us word that you were drowned.”.

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Johnny Blossom hastened to get Mother’s sharpest scissors—the big shiny ones—for he intended to cut some long strips of stout cloth to tie the goat’s legs with. Johnny cut and cut. Suddenly the big blades slipped, caught Johnny’s little finger, and before he knew it, had cut the tip of it clean off! It hurt awfully—oh, well—not so terribly after all; but my, oh, my! how it bled! Johnny Blossom bound his not over-clean handkerchief around it, but still the blood came. Now it was all over his trousers. Perhaps he had better hide until it stopped. The wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke out. She could not endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her own daughters appear still more detestable. She put her to do all the most menial work in the house. It was she who washed up the plates and dishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and those of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house, on a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with inlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned beds, and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore everything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who would only have scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife. When she had done her work, she was in the habit of going into the chimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which caused her to be nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second daughter, however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her Cinderella. Nevertheless, Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked a thousand times more beautiful than her sisters, although so magnificently dressed. “Oh, yes; but for all that I knew Mr. and Mrs. Lind would be angry. I knew that perfectly well. But I went, and then I wasn’t a credit to the school; so if you will please take this report back”— His joys shall dance in ev'ry eye,.