Mountain-Laurel and Maidenhair

Library of Alexandria ¡ AI-āļšāļŽāļąāļē Ava āˇ€āˇ’āˇƒāˇ’āļąāˇŠ (Google ⎀⎙āļ­āˇ’āļąāˇŠ)
āˇāˇŠâ€āļģāˇ€āˇŠâ€āļēāļ´āˇœāļ­
āļ¸āˇ’āļąāˇ’ 55
āļ…āˇƒāļ‚āļšāˇŠâ€āˇ‚⎒āļ´āˇŠāļ­
āˇƒāˇ”āļ¯āˇ”āˇƒāˇ”āļšāļ¸āˇŠ āļŊāļļāļē⎒
AI-āļšāļŽāļąāļē āļšāļģāļą āļŊāļ¯
āļ‡āļœāļē⎓āļ¸āˇŠ āˇƒāˇ„ ⎃āļ¸āˇāļŊāˇāļ āļą āˇƒāļ­āˇŠâ€āļēāˇāļ´āļąāļē āļšāļģ āļąāˇāļ­Â āˇ€āˇāļŠāˇ’āļ¯āˇ”āļģ āļ¯āˇāļą āļœāļąāˇŠāļą
āļ¸āˇ’āļąāˇ’ 5āļš āˇƒāˇāļ¸āˇŠāļ´āļŊāļēāļšāˇŠ āļ…āˇ€āˇāˇŠâ€āļēāļ¯? āļ•āļąāˇ‘āļ¸ āˇ€āˇšāļŊāˇāˇ€āļš, āļąāˇœāļļ⎐āļŗāˇ’⎀ āļ´āˇ€āˇ āˇƒāˇ€āļąāˇŠ āļ¯āˇ™āļąāˇŠāļą. 
āļ‘āļšāˇŠ āļšāļģāļąāˇŠāļą

āļ¸āˇ™āļ¸ āˇāˇŠâ€āļģāˇ€āˇŠâ€āļē āļ´āˇœāļ­ āļœāˇāļą

"Here's your breakfast, miss. I hope it's right. Your mother showed me how to fix it, and said I'd find a cup up here."

"Take that blue one. I have not much appetite, and can't eat if things are not nice and pretty. I like the flowers. I've been longing for some ever since I saw them last night."

The first speaker was a red-haired, freckled-faced girl, in a brown calico dress and white apron, with a tray in her hands and an air of timid hospitality in her manner; the second a pale, pretty creature, in a white wrapper and blue net, sitting in a large chair, looking about her with the languid interest of an invalid in a new place. Her eyes brightened as they fell upon a glass of rosy laurel and delicate maidenhair fern that stood among the toast and eggs, strawberries and cream, on the tray.

"Our laurel is jest in blow, and I'm real glad you come in time to see it. I'll bring you a lot, as soon's ever I get time to go for it."

As she spoke, the plain girl replaced the ugly crockery cup and saucer with the pretty china ones pointed out to her, arranged the dishes, and waited to see if anything else was needed.

"What is your name, please?" asked the pretty girl, refreshing herself with a draught of new milk.

"Rebecca. Mother thought I'd better wait on you; the little girls are so noisy and apt to forget. Wouldn't you like a piller to your back? you look so kind of feeble seems as if you wanted to be propped up a mite."

There was so much compassion and good-will in the face and voice, that Emily accepted the offer, and let Rebecca arrange a cushion behind her; then, while the one ate daintily, and the other stirred about an inner room, the talk went on,Ñfor two girls are seldom long silent when together.

"I think the air is going to suit me, for I slept all night and never woke till Mamma had been up ever so long and got things all nicely settled," said Emily, graciously, when the fresh strawberries had been enjoyed, and the bread and butter began to vanish.

"I'm real glad you like it: most folks do, if they don't mind it being plain and quiet up here. It's gayer down at the hotel, but the air ain't half so good, and delicate folks generally like our old place best," answered Becky, as she tossed over a mattress and shook out the sheets with a brisk, capable air pleasant to see.

"I wanted to go to the hotel, but the doctor said it would be too noisy for me, so Mamma was glad to find rooms here. I didn't think a farm-house could be so pleasant. That view is perfectly splendid!" and Emily sat up to gaze delightedly out of the window, below which spread the wide intervale, through which the river ran with hay-fields on either side, while along the green slopes of the hills lay farm-houses with garden plots, and big barns waiting for the harvest; and beyond, the rocky, wooded pastures dotted with cattle and musical with cow-bells, brooks, and birds.

āļ¸āˇ™āļ¸ āˇāˇŠâ€āļģāˇ€āˇŠâ€āļē āļ´āˇœāļ­ āļ…āļœāļēāļąāˇŠāļą

āļ”āļļ āˇƒāˇ’āļ­āļą āļ¯āˇ™āļē āļ…āļ´āļ§ āļšāˇ’āļēāļąāˇŠāļą.

āˇƒāˇ€āļąāˇŠ āļ¯āˇ“āļ¸āˇš āļ­āˇœāļģāļ­āˇ”āļģ⎔

⎃⎊āļ¸āˇāļģ⎊āļ§āˇŠ āļ¯āˇ”āļģāļšāļŽāļą āˇƒāˇ„ āļ§āˇāļļ⎊āļŊāļ§āˇŠ
Android āˇƒāˇ„ iPad/iPhone ⎃āļŗāˇ„āˇ Google Play āļ´āˇœāļ­āˇŠ āļē⎙āļ¯āˇ”āļ¸ āˇƒāˇŠāļŽāˇāļ´āļąāļē āļšāļģāļąāˇŠāļą. āļ‘āļē āļ”āļļ⎚ āļœāˇ’āļĢ⎔āļ¸ āˇƒāļ¸āļŸ āˇƒāˇŠāˇ€āļēāļ‚āļšāˇŠâ€āļģ⎓āļē⎀ ⎃āļ¸āļ¸āˇ”⎄⎔āļģ⎊āļ­ āļšāļģāļą āļ…āļ­āļģ āļ”āļļāļ§ āļ•āļąāˇ‘āļ¸ āļ­āˇāļąāļš āˇƒāˇ’āļ§ āˇƒāļļ⎐āļŗāˇ’⎀ āˇ„āˇ āļąāˇœāļļ⎐āļŗāˇ’⎀ āļšāˇ’āļē⎀⎓āļ¸āļ§ āļ‰āļŠ āˇƒāļŊ⎃āļē⎒.
āļŊ⎐āļ´āˇŠāļ§āˇœāļ´āˇŠ āˇƒāˇ„ āļ´āļģ⎒āļœāļĢāļš
āļ”āļļāļœāˇš āļ´āļģ⎒āļœāļĢāļšāļē⎚ ⎀⎙āļļ⎊ āļļāˇŠâ€āļģāˇ€āˇŠāˇƒāļģāļē āļˇāˇāˇ€āˇ’āļ­āļē⎙āļąāˇŠ Google Play āļ¸āļ­ āļ¸āˇ’āļŊāļ¯āˇ“ āļœāļ­āˇŠ āļ´āˇœāļ­āˇŠ āļ”āļļāļ§ āļšāˇ’āļē⎀⎒āļē ⎄⎐āļš.

Louisa May Alcott āˇ€āˇ’āˇƒāˇ’āļąāˇŠ āļ­āˇ€āļ­āˇŠ

⎃āļ¸āˇāļą āˇāˇŠâ€āļģāˇ€āˇŠâ€āļēāļ´āˇœāļ­āˇŠ

āļšāļŽāļąāļē Ava āˇ€āˇ’āˇƒāˇ’āļąāˇ’