Читать книгу The Haven Children; or, Frolics at the Funny Old House on Funny Street онлайн

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“As ye have done it unto one of these little ones, ye have done it unto Me,” and so it was that the shrill whistle shrieked out their near approach to Providence, tired travellers took down their wraps and bundles from the racks above, and Bear started, with a fretful cry, before the children had thought of growing weary of the stories of Narragansett Bay, the Indians who once inhabited its shore, with hosts of boy-adventures so frightful as to make them shiver, or so funny as to make them hold their wearied sides.

The kind clergyman lifted poor little Bear, too tired to resist, and tenderly placed him in Papa’s arms, who gratefully pressed the stranger’s hand, whilst his quick eye searched for each household darling to make them over to Hugh’s care, to be piloted through the line of noisy hack and baggage-men, to the waiting carriage.

Little Jack remembered to lift his hat, as he again caught sight of the stranger clergyman disappearing in the crowd, and cried out, to his lady-like Sister Daisy’s horror—