Courage Masterson happened to be in Miss Julia's own class, and was ordinarily a most apt little scholar; but on this particular Saturday her thoughts seemed to be everywhere rather than on her work; indeed, she had to rip out almost every stitch taken, until Miss Julia wondered what could have happened. Afterward, when the children had said their good-byes and gone home, and the teachers, with the exception of Miss Julia, had all left the building, Courage, who had been standing unnoticed in one corner, rushed up to her, burying her red-brown curls in the folds of her dress and sobbing fit to break her heart.
"Why, Courage, dear, what is the matter?" and Miss Julia, sitting down on one of the benches, drew Courage into her lap. "I was afraid all the lesson that something had gone wrong. Poor child! have you some new sorrow to bear?"
"No, Miss Julia; I am going to do just what I want to do most; I am going to live on a boat; but, oh! I can't bear to go away from you and Mary Duff."
"Going away, and to live on a boat! why, how is that, Courage?" and then as Courage explained all the plans, and how she was to spend the whole summer out on the bay with "Larry, the goodest man that ever was," her sad little face gradually grew bright again.
"Look here," said Miss Julia, after they had been talking a long while together, "I am sure"--and then she paused and looked Courage over quite carefully--- "yes, I am sure I have something that will be just the thing for you now that you are to be so much on the water; wait here for a moment," and going into a little room that opened from the chapel, she immediately returned with something in her hands that made Courage open her eyes for wonder. It was a beautiful astrachan-trimmed blue coat, with a wide-brimmed hat to match. They had belonged to a little niece of Miss Julia's--a little niece who no longer had need for any earth-made garment, and so here they were in Miss Julia's hands awaiting some new child-ownership.
She had already thought of Courage Masterson as one to whom they would prove not only useful but becoming, and yet had feared to excite the envy of the other children. But if Courage was going away, that settled it; she should have them; for in that case her less fortunate little sisters need never be the wiser. So Miss Julia gladly held them up to view, for she dearly loved little Courage, while Courage, incredulous, exclaimed: "For me? Oh, Miss Julia!" and proceeded to don the coat and hat with the alacrity of a little maid appreciative of their special prettiness. Then what did the little witch do but run post-haste to the rear of the chapel, mount the high and slippery organ-bench, and have a peep into the mirror above it. Miss Julia could not keep from smiling, but said, as she came running back: "It does look nicely on you, Courage, but you must not let it make you vain, darling."