Eleanor H. Porter

“ Wentworth proposed to introduce two children from the orphan asylum.
Before the week was out a note was sent to the matron of the institution, and the prospective host and hostess were making their plans with unwonted excitement.
"We'll rise at six and breakfast at seven," began Mrs. Wentworth.
"And they must be in bed by eight o'clock," supplemented her husband.
"I did n't say whether to send boys or girls, and I forgot to say anything about their being quiet; but if they're boys, you can teach them gardening, James, and if they're girls, they can sew with me a good deal." ”

“ Poor, homely Bobby! He had a hard row to hoe. He—
But she could n't take Bobby! Of course not—she had Tommy and Tilly already. Still—
Mrs. Wentworth stooped and whispered a magic word in Bobby's ear, and the boy sprang to his feet and trotted through the hall to the parlor door.
"I don't care," muttered Mrs. Wentworth recklessly. "I could n't bear to leave him alone out here. I can settle it later."
Twice she had evaded her husband during the last fifteen minutes; now, at nine o'clock, the appointed time, they both reached the parlor door. ”

“ The man at the head of the table looked on in dumb amazement, and he was still speechless when, after dinner, five children set upon him and dragged him out to see the bird's nest behind the barn.
"An' we found the pigs an' the chickens, Mister, jest as they said we would," piped up Tommy eagerly, as they hurried along.
"An' a teeny little baby cow, too," panted the smaller girl, "an' I fed him."
"Well, I guess you could n't 'a' fed him if I had n't held him with the rope," crowed Bobby.
"Or if I had n't scared him with my stick!" cut in Tilly. ”

“ That is all we have with us now, owing to several recent adoptions from our ranks—you know we are never very large, being only a branch of the Hollingsworth Asylum. The children were so crazy, though, at the idea of a trip to the country, that I am sure each child will have fun enough—and make noise enough, also, I fear—for two, so in the end you may think you've got your ten children, after all. ”

“ I really don't know what we shall do to entertain them. Perhaps they might like to read," suggested Mr. Wentworth, looking with some doubt at his big bookcases filled with heavy, calf-bound volumes.
"Of course; and they can walk in the garden and sit on the piazza," murmured Mrs. Wentworth happily.
In the orphan asylum that same evening there was even greater excitement. Mrs. Wentworth's handwriting was not of the clearest, and her request for "two" children had been read as "ten" ”