A CHILD'S VICTORY.

BY C. H.

On the rug before the open fire sat Pussie, her head against her aunt's knee, her Skye in her arms—a picture of content. After a silence of at least two minutes she drew a long breath—so long that Aunt Kitty laughed, and asked her what the matter was.

With a good deal of hesitation the little girl answered, in a very sad voice, "Because it is almost time to go to bed."

"Pussie, why don't you like to go to bed?"

"Because—because— I don't want to say."

"Then I will tell you why. Shall I, dear?"

"Oh, auntie, you don't know. You can not even guess why."

Aunt Kitty stooped over and whispered something, which had the effect of bringing Pussie on her feet, as she exclaimed, "Why! how did you know?"

"I once was a little girl myself, dear."

"Oh yes, I know; but then you never felt as I feel about the dark."

"Don't be too sure of anything, little one. What should you say if I told you that I found out your fear of the dark just because I used to feel as you do now?"

Still incredulous, Pussie shook her head, saying, "But when did it go away? You are not afraid of anything now?"

"Come here, and I will tell you," and taking the child on her knee, Aunt Katherine told her this little story of her own life.

"When I was a child I was as timid as a hare. I was very shy; I did not like strangers, and I did not care for companions of my own age. I was perfectly happy with my mother and father and my beloved dolls. Now you see you have the advantage of me, for you are not shy, you are fond of little girls and boys, and then, too, you have your dogs and your pony. Now I was so afraid of a dog that the sight of one, as far off as I could see him, filled me with such terror that I instinctively drew up my small legs, and then took to my heels. I was so afraid of a worm that I have gone a whole block out of the way to avoid passing one. I am afraid, Pussie, that I was a born coward, but nothing was so absolutely awful to me as the dark. A familiar room was bad enough when unlighted, but one that was unoccupied was to me the most truly horrible place that could be conceived of. The windows, with their distinctly defined sashes, were one of the most frightful features to me, and I remember lying awake at night and seeing the four or eight white squares in the darkness, and trembling with fear—of what I did not know." And Miss Katherine heard a little murmur.

"Oh, auntie, it always frightens me so! I am glad it frightened you too." And with a closer cuddle she said, "Please go on."

"Once my father spoke to me about it, reasoning with me most lovingly and tenderly, never uttering one word of ridicule or of reproach, telling me that no one else could help me in overcoming the dread of darkness, but that I might conquer it myself. I used to wonder if I should ever feel as he did about it, and be as brave as he was in every way.

"Some little time passed away, and when I was about seven or eight years old an idea flashed through my brain, and I will tell you what I did.

"It was just about this hour, between six and seven o'clock, and at this season of the year, when I made up my mind to explore the whole house in the dark. Sir John Franklin and Dr. Kane (you remember I was telling you about them only last night?) could not have had a firmer conviction of the dangers they were braving than I had at that moment. 'The Dark' was quite as unknown a region to me as the north pole to them, and set thick with terrible risks and perils; but having made up my mind to do it, the possibility of retreat did not occur to me, for I remember I felt as if it were a sort of duty, a promise to my father; so I walked out of the room where all the family were sitting by the fire-light, and began to go up the first flight of stairs in the back part of the house—unlighted save by a ground-glass window, through which the hall lamp threw a dim light. I had made up my mind to begin with the worst, and went steadily up, one, two, three, four flights of stairs; the last led to the attic, divided into two rooms—the outer one finished but never occupied; the inner one unfinished, and each lighted by a window in the roof, and communicating by a little door, so low that, small as I was, I could not stand upright in passing through. In utter darkness I climbed the steep stairs, closing the door at the foot, and at last found myself groping my way into the inner attic through the door I have just described. Then on my hands and knees I crawled under the eaves, breathless and trembling; I left no corner unexplored. I remember going back more than once, to be sure that I had not 'shirked.' In this way I went into every room, crawling under every bed, which was an especial horror to me; I don't know why—do you, Pussie?"

"Oh, auntie, it is dreadful under the beds!"

"But what is it you are afraid of? Are you afraid that some one is concealed there who will hurt you?"

"No, indeed; I don't know what it is, but I always feel that something is hidden there, auntie—something awful."

EXPLORING THE ATTIC—Drawn by Jessie Curtis.

"Well, Pussie, so did I, and as I crawled out from each bed I felt that I had had a narrow escape, expecting the next would reveal the dreadful thing. And all this time the windows seemed to grin at me; but I thought of my father, and of his telling me that I could 'conquer if I tried,' and I went on, closing the door of every room as I went in, going faithfully into every closet, and feeling with my hands under every piece of furniture which was not set close to the floor. It was such a long time to me! I felt as if I had not seen my father and mother for hours; but at last I began to feel that I was near the end, and I recall going back and exploring for the second time the unknown region under the last bed, because I felt in my heart that I had not been honest about it. I was conscious that the left corner nearest the window had not been really investigated. At last it was finished, and I can remember how I felt when I opened the door of the room where the others were laughing and talking, with bright lights and the fire—I can remember my bewildered feeling, as if waking from sleep, and the sensation of having been saved from something; and when my father put his hand out to me and drew me to his side, asking where his little girl had been all this time, and I cuddled up to him as you are doing now, dearie, I was so happy as I whispered back so softly that none of the rest could hear, 'I have been everywhere in the dark, under the beds and all.' I shall never forget the look he gave me as he drew me closer to him, and kissed me, whispering back, 'My brave little girl!' And when by-and-by my mother's lovely eyes beamed upon me as she stooped and kissed me, I felt quite repaid for all my distress; and, my darling, I never afterward suffered in the same way. Of course I had little thrills and panics, but lasting only for a moment. I could always send them away when I thought of my father's kiss. If I have any courage, it is due to my dear father's loving reasoning, to his patience and his sympathy."

Both arms were round Miss Katherine's neck, and Pussie said, gently, "Auntie, I will try." And she did try, and did conquer her foolish fears so thoroughly that the dark has lost all its terrors for her, and a braver little girl can not be found in the country.