Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 Read Online Free Page A

till father came.
                            
But poor Onawandah had waited too long; now he could only look up into the dear,
loving, little face bent over him, and whisper wistfully: "Wild Rose will
remember Onawandah?" as the light went out of his eyes, and his last
breath was a smile for her.
                            
When the parson and his people came hurrying up full of wonder, joy, and
good-will, they found Eunice weeping bitterly, and the Indian boy lying like a
young warrior smiling at death.
                            
"Ah, my neighbors, the savage has taught us a
lesson we never can forget. Let us imitate his virtues, and do honor to his
memory," said the pastor, as he held his little daughter close and looked
down at the pathetic figure at his feet, whose silence was more eloquent than
any words.
                            
All felt it, and even old Becky had a remorseful sigh for the boy who had kept
his word so well and given back her darlings safe.
                            
They buried him where he lay; and for years the lonely mound under the great
oak was kept green by loving hands. Wild roses bloomed there, and the murmur of
the Long River of Pines was a fit lullaby for faithful Onawandah.
   
                  
     
     

AN IVY SPRAY AND LADIES'
SLIPPERS
 
 
                            
"IT can't be done! So I may as well give it I up and get a new pair. I
long for them, but I'm afraid my nice little plan for Laura will be
spoilt," said Jessie Delano to herself, as she shook her head over a pair
of small, dilapidated slippers almost past mending. While she vainly pricked
her fingers over them for the last time, her mind was full of girlish hopes and
fears, as well as of anxieties far too serious for a light-hearted creature of
sixteen.
                            
A year ago the sisters had been the petted daughters of a rich man; but death
and misfortune came suddenly, and now they were left to face poverty alone.
They had few relations, and had offended the rich uncle who offered Jessie a
home, because she refused to be separated from her sister. Poor Laura was an
invalid, and no one wanted her; but Jessie would not leave her, so they clung
together and lived on in the humble rooms where their father died, trying to
earn their bread by the only accomplishments they possessed. Laura painted
well, and after many disappointments was beginning to find a sale for her
dainty designs and delicate flowers. Jessie had a natural gift for dancing; and
her former teacher, a kind-hearted Frenchwoman, offered her favorite pupil the
post of assistant teacher in her classes for children.
                            
It cost the girl a struggle to accept a place of this sort and be a humble
teacher, patiently twirling stupid little boys and girls round and round over
the smooth floor where she used to dance so happily when she was the pride of
the class and the queen of the closing balls. But for Laura's sake she
gratefully accepted the offer, glad to add her mite to their small store, and
to feel that she could help keep the wolf from the door. They had seemed to
hear the howl of this dreaded phantom more than once during that year, and
looked forward to the long hard winter with an anxiety which neither would
confess to the other. Laura feared to fall ill if she worked too hard, and then
what would become of this pretty young sister who loved her so tenderly and
would not be tempted to leave her? And Jessie could do very little except rebel
against their hard fate and make impracticable plans. But each worked bravely,
talked cheerfully, and waited hopefully for some good fortune to befall them,
while doubt and pain and poverty and care made the young hearts so heavy that
the poor girls often fell asleep on pillows wet with secret tears.