. St. Nicholas [serial]. ough the village, that all negotiations with NapoleonBonaparte have been settled, and these, motioning tothe wide fields of their Louisiana home, no longerbelong to dear France, but to America. Madame clasped her hands in an attitude of were pretty white hands that had done little or nowork save embroidering and painting. But why shouldMadame Daulac work?Was she not a granddame of France, who hadcome over to this big, sunnyland with her husband? Andhad she not half a hundrednegroes at her command?She was, in truth, a littlequeen, and when shethought her sm
. St. Nicholas [serial]. ough the village, that all negotiations with NapoleonBonaparte have been settled, and these, motioning tothe wide fields of their Louisiana home, no longerbelong to dear France, but to America. Madame clasped her hands in an attitude of were pretty white hands that had done little or nowork save embroidering and painting. But why shouldMadame Daulac work?Was she not a granddame of France, who hadcome over to this big, sunnyland with her husband? Andhad she not half a hundrednegroes at her command?She was, in truth, a littlequeen, and when shethought her small kingdomwas to be taken from herno wonder she cried in dis-may: Ah, it cannot be!The cruel Americans willtake from us our prettyhome. That I cannot bear!Louis, oh, take me back tola France! The Americans willsurely allow us to remainat Maison Blanc as be-fore, he reassured , catching sight of theeager, upturned face of hislittle daughter as she stoodby her mothers chair, hesaid, And what will youdo, la petite?. PORTRAIT. BY ALINE J. DREYFUS, AGE 13 The little maiden thought a moment. Her smalloval face surrounded by a mass of golden hair andher aquiline features showed her a descendant of alordly line. Sire, she said, dropping a low and gracefulcurtsy, I will endeavor to be as good an Americanas my grandsires and grandames were French. Mon Dieti! cried her father, slapping his satinknee in delight and turning to his wife, the child hasanswered her question well! Then, bending overhis daughters little hand, he said solemnly, A greatand good country this is, and I, too, will endeavor tobecome here, as my fathers were in France, faithfuland true to their land until the last ! FAREWELL TO VACATION. BY BLANCHE LEEMING (AGE 14). ( Cold Badge.) A CANOE moored in the marsh-land, where the grass grows thick and tall;A paddle in the hollow, where the sunset shadows fall;A skim across the waters in the gloaming of the day;The white-throat sparrows warbling of his sweetest minst
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
