distracted family traveled back to the dinner camp, Mr. Harris and the
big brothers calling, as they went, the name of the child.

The camp was finally reached--but little Martha was not there and no
trace of her could be found.

The forest had seemed so peaceful an hour before, but now it was filled
with terrors. What wild animals might not lurk in the thickets! The very
brook seemed to murmur of dangers--quicksands and treacherous
water-holes.

"Baby! Baby!" called Mr. Harris suddenly, breaking into a sharp cry; and
this time, in the anxious waiting pause of silence, a shrill little
voice from right under the wagon piped out, "Here I is!" and over the
rim of the great copper kettle popped Martha's golden head. Scrambling
out, "head-over-heels," she rushed into her mother's arms, as fresh and
rosy from her after-dinner nap as though she had been rocked in the
downiest cradle in the land.




AN APRIL DAY.


Now bless me! where have my rubbers gone,
And where my big umbrell'?
It's pouring rain, and a minute ago
It was just as clear as a bell!