"Why, we had almost as much of a time then as he had had the night before! That doctor couldn't seem to believe it; he was determined my eyes should burn, and sure that I could not see father's face. But I saw everything as plain as I do this minute. And my eyes did not hurt at all. I continued to _see_ all day; and at night saw the fire balls, and laughed and made merry with the rest. The happiest girl, I do believe, that ever sat down to a Fourth of July feast. I believed that the dear Lord had touched my eyes and cured them." "But, Grandma," said skeptical Ralph, "do you _really_ think it was so? Don't you suppose the stuff in the bottle was weaker than they thought, and the doctor's medicine, and the night's sleep, cured your eyes?" "I don't know," said Grandma, taking up her knitting again; "all I know, is this: the stuff burned so that I thought for a minute the whole of me was on fire; and when I came out of my faint, and tried to look up at mother, I couldn't see a thing! And they all believed that if my eyesight was not quite gone, it would be months and _months_ before I could see again; and never, so well as before. And I know that in the morning when the bandage was taken off, I could see a good deal better than I can now, and my eyes never ached a bit from it afterwards. It is a little piece of the old story. Grandma can't explain it, couldn't then; 'One thing I knew; that whereas I was blind, now I see.'" PANSY. THE BOY AND THE BIRD. "GO, weed in the garden till half after ten," Rob's mother said, sharply. "I'll not speak again." "Dear me," said Rob, sighing, "I wish I could be The robin that's singing up there in the tree. Birds never weed gardens--they never bring wood, They do as I'd like to, and would if I could. They've nothing to trouble them, only to sing, And rock on the branch when they're not on the wing." "See here, little boy," said the Robin to Rob, "Though you think I am idle I'm planning a job. Four nestlings to care for--such great hungry things! There isn't much rest for a father bird's wings. The cats try to catch us--the boys are as bad. Birds have work, wants and worries like others, my lad. Be content as God made us, as bird, boy, or man, And do what needs doing the best way we can." --EBEN E. REXFORD, _in Central Presbyterian_. [Illustration: TWO WILFUL LITTLE BROTHERS.] _Volume 13, Number 36._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _July 10, 1886._ THE PANSY. [Illustration: THREE THIRSTY BOSSIES.] REACHING OUT. (_A further Account of Nettie Decker and her Friends._) BY PANSY. CHAPTER IX.