“Oh, Lisa!” was all Phil could say, for though grateful, he was yet disappointed that Lisa had not kept his picture.

“Now, dear,” she said, “you can buy some little trifle for Joe, and any one else you want to make a present to.”

“Thank you, Lisa; yes, I will.  It is a very nice purse,” he replied; but as soon as he could find Miss Schuyler he unburdened his heart.

“After all the pains I took with that little picture, Aunt Rachel, to think of Lisa’s selling it!  Oh, how could she?”

“Hush, dear Phil; Lisa is the most unselfish creature in the world.  Has she not given you up to me?  And for the pleasure she supposed it would give you to have money of your own earning, she was willing to part with even a thing so precious as a picture painted by you for her.  Do not question her motive for a moment.  Take the money, and buy her something useful.  Come, we will go get a pretty work-basket; she will find it even more to her taste than a picture.”

So they went out and bought a light, nicely shaped basket, with little pockets all around it, and Aunt Rachel made it complete with a silver thimble, a strawberry emery cushion, a morocco needle-book, and an ample supply of silk, thread, needles, pins, and buttons.

Lisa was delighted; but Phil could not be satisfied until he had painted another little picture, and made Lisa promise that no one else should ever have it.

Joe was made happy with some new bandanna handkerchiefs in brilliant yellows and reds, a pipe, some tobacco, and a suit of clothes from Miss Schuyler.

It was a tranquil, lovely day in the fall when the steamship sailed with Aunt Rachel and Phil on board.  All the bay sparkled in the sunshine, and boats of every shape and size danced upon the blue water.  After the bustle and confusion of getting off, the leave-takings, the cries and shouts of sailors, the blowing of whistles and ringing of bells, they sat quietly down to watch the receding shores, and look out upon the glittering water.

“Aunt Rachel,” said Phil, “it all seems like another fairy story to me, and we are sailing in a nautilus to the island of Heart’s Ease.”

“Yes, dear child, so it does.  And let us hope that we shall find that beautiful island, and never wish to leave it.”

FLORIO AND FLORELLA

A CHRISTMAS FAIRY TALE

CHAPTER I

There was once a child named Florio, who had neither father nor mother, uncle nor aunt, and so it happened that he was adopted by a witch.  He might have had a fairy godmother if anybody had remembered to ask one to the christening, but as no one took enough interest in him for that, it was neglected, and poor Florio became the property of a hideous, hateful old hag, who was never so happy as when she was making trouble.  Of course Florio was compelled to do her bidding.  Naturally inoffensive and gentle, he was continually obliged to do violence to his conscience by obeying the witch.