back; March, new spring bodice; April, divided skirt and Bernhardt mantle with sling sleeves; May, Early English bodice and yoke bodice for summer dress; June, dressing jacket, princess frock, and Normandy peasant’s cap, for a child of four years; July, Princess of Wales’ jacket-bodice and waistcoat for tailor-made gown; August, bodice with guimpe; September, mantle with stole ends and hood.  October, “pyjama” or nightdress combination with full back.

THE SHEPHERD’S FAIRY.

A pastorale.

By Darley Dale, Author of “Fair Katherine,” etc.

CHAPTER IV.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Shelley had washed and dressed her own three boys, and had introduced the little stranger to the two elder, Charlie, the baby, being already on intimate terms with his foster sister, for whose sake he had to submit to much less attention than had hitherto fallen to his share, for which reason he was unusually cross this morning.  Willie, the second boy, the living image of his father, was barely three years old, and too young to pay much attention to the baby, or to understand that it had arrived in an unusual way; but Jack, the eldest boy, quite took it in, and stood lost in admiration of the wonderful baby with its beautiful clothes, so unlike Charlie’s, and the lovely coral and bells, as his mother showed them all to him.  Jack was five years old, a tall, strong child for his age, and very like his mother in face; he had her quick temper, too, though Mrs. Shelley had hers pretty well under control, while little Jack often got into trouble by giving way to his.  Nothing ever escaped Jack’s notice; he was always all ears and eyes, and he took in every detail of the strange baby’s belongings as intelligently as his mother could have done, and, to her joy, for she was by no means sure what kind of a welcome Jack, who resented the arrival of little Charlie, saying, “Mother didn’t want anyone else to love her when she had him,” would give to the strange baby, he was enchanted with it, and was as anxious as Mrs. Shelley herself to keep it.

“It is the fairies’ baby; they brought it, didn’t they, mother?  We will always, always keep it, won’t we?”

“I don’t quite know yet, Jack; father says perhaps we shall have to send it away,” said Mrs. Shelley.

“It shan’t go away.  How dare father say so?  He is a wicked man to want to send it away,” cried the boy, with flashing eyes and crimson cheeks.

“Jack, I am ashamed of you; you must not speak of your father in that way; if he says it is to go away it must go, whether we like it or no.”

Jack hung his head and hid his face on his mother’s shoulder, while she, remembering how indignant she had been with the shepherd for hinting at sending it away the night before, stooped and kissed her boy’s curly head, and Jack raised his head again and renewed his attentions to the baby.