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There was once a merchant, who was very, very rich. He had six children, three boys and three girls, and as he was a man of good sense, he spared no expense in order that they might be well educated, and gave them masters of every kind. His daughters were all beautiful, but his youngest one was especially admired, and from the time she was a small child, had been only known and spoken of as "Beauty." The name remained with her as she grew older, which gave rise to a great deal of jealousy on the part of her sisters. The young girl was not only more beautiful than they were, but also kinder and more amiable. The elder daughters gave themselves great airs, for they were overweeningly proud of being so rich, and would not condescend to receive visits from the daughters of other merchants, as they only cared for the society of people in high position. Not a day passed that they did not go to a ball, or a theatre, or for a drive or walk in a fashionable part of the town, and they made fun of their sister, who spent a great part of her time in study. The girls received many offers of marriage from well-to-do merchants, as they were known to be rich, but the two elder ones replied, that they did not intend to marry anyone, unless a duke or an earl could be found for a husband.,His children gathered round him; but instead of finding pleasure in their caresses, he began to weep as he looked upon them. He held in his hand the branch of roses which he had brought for Beauty. "Take them," he said, as he gave them to her, "your unhappy father has paid dearly for them." And then he told his family of the melancholy adventure that had befallen him.,Now, children, take warning, and chiefly, I pray,,But at first all he could think of was what would happen if he did not get out. Probably it meant the blowing up of the dam and machinery and a serious uprising of the Mexicans—one that would mean bloodshed. It was terrible to think of, yet he was convinced that that was the least that could be expected. The cattlemen could not hold the Mexicans in check once they had been started on the rampage.,Young men oft find, on industry,,“It is therefore my last wish that my grand-nephew, John Christopher Winkel Blossom, inherit after me my estate of Kingthorpe, whole and undivided, including the mansion and park, the Works, the Bay Point wharves, the Holmen sawmill”—,[218]The day and night passed quietly, but the next morning the mess room of the Quarter-house was in a turmoil. News had come in that a gang of Mexican bandits had made a raid on Columbus, killing and wounding many Americans. This report was unconfirmed but rumors flew thick and fast. Some had it that it was the army of Carranza and others that it was merely an unorganized deed of a rash bandit. Most of the men thought it was Villa.,“You’re right, I guess,” he assented. “We’ve got to do it. Come on, we might as well get it over.”,She revived, but on observing the marquis, screamed and relapsed. He hastened to the castle for assistance, inventing, to conceal his disgrace, some pretence for her sudden illness, and she was conveyed to her chamber.,Happening to see his new paint-box with its enticing cakes of paint of all colors, Johnny Blossom in his night gown and bare feet was soon wholly absorbed in mixing paint.,“Are you sure of it?” Johnny’s blue eyes gazed earnestly at his mother.,Their flight was swift, swooping something like a bird’s. From one tower the bucket would speed, only to stop silently and, almost before its crossways movement had ended, it would drop to the surface of the work. An instant to unload the bucket and in a flash it was up and gliding like the wind back to its starting point..