imagined--exceedingly attractive to a child. The rays of the declining
sun, slanting across the grassy yard, brightened up the low, brown
farm-house until the old-fashioned glass door and latticed windows on
either side seemed as if brilliantly lighted from within. One might
easily have imagined it an enchanted castle. The mossy roof looked as
if gilded. In front of the house the well-bucket, hanging high upon
the sweep, seemed dropping gold into the depths beneath. On the porch,
upon a table scrubbed "white as the driven snow," were set the bright
tin pans ready to receive the evening's milk. Within the house the
maids were singing gayly as they passed to and fro preparing a
substantial supper for the farmer. Outside, the creaking wagons were
being driven into the barn-yard. Gentle oxen, released from their
daily toil, stood patiently waiting to be fed. Horses, with a great
deal of stamping and fuss, were led into the barn. Up the lane came
the cow-boy, alternately whistling, singing, and cracking his whip,
until at length the drove of sweet-breathed cows stood lowing at the
bars, which, at milking-time, would be let down for them to pass each
to her own stall.

Nelly seemed to see and hear nothing that was passing around her. The
shadow upon her face deepened; the sweet blue eyes filled with tears.
At last she rose, and, crossing the stile, passed rapidly through the
wheat-field, climbed a low stone wall and presently came to a green
knoll, shaded by a sycamore-tree, commanding a view of the public
road. Here she stood, eagerly gazing down the road, while seemingly
struggling to subdue a sorrow which, however, soon found vent in
heart-broken sobs. Still searching the road with anxious, tearful
eyes, she seemed to hesitate for a while, but at last, after casting
many a fearful glance toward the farm-house, the little girl began to
descend the high bank, slipping many times, and sadly scratched by the
rough gravel and projecting roots of the trees.

Having reached the bottom, she did not pause a moment, but drew her
light shawl over her head and ran swiftly away. And now let us try to
discover the cause of all this trouble.

My dear young friends, have you ever heard of a disease called
"nostalgia?" A long, hard word, and one which contains a world of
terrible meaning. It is a kind of sickness which attacks not only
children, but also strong and wise men, who have been known to suffer,
nay, even to _die_, because t