Ronda and Katy stood on one side, all in their best, bobbing delighted courtesies; Mr. Brown, half hidden behind the gate on the other side, was keeping Sancho erect, so that he might present arms promptly when the bride appeared.  As flowers were scarce, on either post stood a rosy little girl clapping her hands, while out from the thicket of red and yellow boughs, which made a grand bouquet in the lantern frame, came Ben’s head and shoulders, as he waved his grandest flag with its gold paper “Welcome Home!” on a blue ground.

“Isn’t it beautiful!” cried Miss Celia, throwing kisses to the children, shaking hands with her maids, and glancing brightly at the stranger who was keeping Sanch quiet.

“Most people adorn their gate-posts with stone balls, vases, or griffins; your living images are a great improvement, love, especially the happy boy in the middle,” said Mr. George, eying Ben with interest, as he nearly tumbled overboard, top-heavy with his banner.

“You must finish what I have only begun,” answered Miss Celia, adding gayly, as Sancho broke loose and came to offer both his paw and his congratulations, “Sanch, introduce your master, that I may thank him for coming back in time to save my old house.”

“If I’d saved a dozen it wouldn’t have half paid for all you’ve done for my boy, ma’am,” answered Mr. Brown, bursting out from behind the gate quite red with gratitude and pleasure.

“I loved to do it, so please remember that this is still his home till you make one for him.  Thank God, he is no longer fatherless!” and Miss Celia’s sweet face said even more than her words, as the white hand cordially shook the brown one with a burn across the back.

“Come on, sister.  I see the tea-table all ready, and I’m awfully hungry,” interrupted Thorny, who had not a ray of sentiment about him, though very glad Ben had got his father back again.

“Come over, by and by, little friends, and let me thank you for your pretty welcome,—­it certainly is a warm one;” and Miss Celia glanced merrily from the three bright faces above her to the old chimney, which still smoked sullenly.

“Oh, don’t!” cried Bab, hiding her face.

“She didn’t mean to,” added Betty, pleadingly.

“Three cheers for the bride!” roared Ben, dipping his flag, as leaning on her husband’s arm his dear mistress passed through the gay party, along the leaf-strewn walk, over the threshold of the house which was to be her happy home for many years.

The closed gate where the lonely little wanderer once lay was always to stand open now, and the path where children played before was free to all comers, for a hospitable welcome henceforth awaited rich and poor, young and old, sad and gay, Under the Lilacs.

[Illustration]

HAPPY LITTLE FROGGY.

BY E. MUeLLER.

[Illustration]

  Happy little Froggy, he
    Was proud enough
  Of his trousers and his coat,
    Green and buff.