FOR THE CHILDREN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18879, 29 November 1924, Page 4 (Supplement)

FOR THE CHILDREN.

STORY OF THE MONMOUTH REBELLION. "Celia, darling, what was that ?" asked Mrs. Bellamy, lifting a pair of tired eyes from a delicate piece of fancy work. "Only Nancy shutting the garden gate, mamma/" replied Celia, a pretty little maid of seven, without turning round from the window, as she did not wish her mother to see that she had been crying. "I thought, it was Harry," said Mrs. Bellamy sadly. "I wish the dear lad would come back!" It was a fair July-morning. Tho sky was a dazzling blue, smudged here and there with soft white clouds. The sun shone gaily, glancing through the thick green trees, wherein the birds trilled merrily, and painting the flowers a bright gold"Oh, Harry," sighed the little maid to herself, pushing open the window and leaning out, "why did you join the wicked Duke of Monmouth! Mamma and I miss you, oh, so much!" She was thinking about her big brother who had foolishly joined the army of His Grace of Monmouth. Now the disastrous rebellion was over, and the cowardly young dnke was safely confined in the Tower of London. Suddenly the sitting room door burst open and in came Nancy, the cook-maid, wringing her rough brown hands. Tears were in her kind grey eyes. "Madame," she cried, 'pardon my enterin' like this, but—but I've just eard that poor Master Harry 'as been taken Srisoner by that villainous Colonel Kirke! h, madame!" Mrs. Bellamy sprang up. Her face was pale and agitated. She clutched the arm of her chair for support. "Celia, my sweet, what shall we do now?" she moaned, falling back in a dead faint.

It was the evening. The deep azure sky was sprinkled with faint stars. A warm west wind, sweet with scent of roses and stocks, blow over hapless Taunton town. Cautiously little Celia crept out of her homo and hurried down the narrow garden path. Once on the great, quiet road she paused and pressed a oeautiful wax doll, exquisitly dressed in green and mauve satins, murmuring, "Dear dolly, I. am going to ask Colonel Kirke if he will exchange my darling Harry for you!" Then, with fast beating heart and tears in her brave blue eyes, the little maid set off on her great adventure. "A little lass to see you, colonel." said a rough soldier, pushing Celia, not unkindly, into a low, ill-lit room. A tall, handsome man

seated at a table busily writing did not answer; ho only nodded his dark, curly head. The soldier left the room, shutting the door behind him. Celia felt suddenly afraid. "Well, child, what do you want?" demanded Colonel Kirke, looking up, frowning, from his work. "I have come about my brother, sir," began Celia. I'm afraid I cannot do anything for him," put in the famous soldier coldly. "He did not mean to be bad, really sir!" said the child tearfully. "They all say that," sneered Kirke. "Sir, she pleaded, "if I give you my dolly, please, will you release my only b "other ?" Fearless blue eyes met hard brown ones. There was tense silence.

Then the soldier said:

"Brave little maid! What an unselfish sister! Nay, child, I do not wish your toy—keep it. Your brother's name, sweetheart?"

Celia gave it. Kirke touched a belL "Release Harry Bellamy," he ordered the soldier who answered the ring. "Oh, sir! Thank yon!" sobbed Celia; flinging her arms round the colonel's neck, she kissed him once, twice, thrice.

Half an hour later the little Taunton girl walked happily away from the inn with her brother.

"Perhaps," mused Colonel Kirke, as he watched the two out of eight, "perhaps this good turn will make up for the many wrongs I have donel" •