LOST BUT FOUND.

A TRUE STORY.

"TO-MORROW! To-morrow!" cried little Luey; and she jumped up and down the long school-room in a state of excitement very unusual with her, for she was a quiet child generally.

"To-morrow! To-morrow!" echoed nineteen or twenty other voices, the excitement spreading to the whole number of Mrs. Newman's pupils, for this was breaking-up day. On such occasions the most sedate were apt to forget themselves, and catch the general tone of joy. If you have never been at school you do not know the delight of going home. There are a great many things which you would think hardships, and it is a trial to be so long away from those you love; but supposing your parents think it best for you to go to school, you have certainly a most joyful time twice a year in the return home.

I do not think there was anyone at Mrs. Newman's so happy in the thought of going home as Lucy. She was nine years old, and a quiet little girl, as I have said, but she was loving and affectionate, and this had been her first half-year at school. She was the daughter of a clergyman in the country, and she had several little brothers and sisters, down to a babybrother, who would be grown old enough by this time to notice her and play with her. Four months was a long time to be away from kind parents and a happy home. She had also two elder brothers; true, they teased her sometimes, but she wanted to see them again just as much for all that, and altogether the prospect of return home was most exciting.

Lucy had been given in charge to one of the elder girls, whose name was Catherine; this was when she first came; but all the half-year Catherine had most carefully watched over and tended her young friend, who called her mother, and brought all her troubles to her just as she would have done to her own dear mother at home.

Catherine had had a sweet mother of her own once, but she was in heaven now, and Catherine was going to spend the holidays with some aunts.

The happy morning came, a dull December morning; but what did that matter? Sunshine in the heart always puts sunshine into everything else too. The first party were to start early, so that they had to get up by candlelight, which indeed they had been doing for some time past, and thought it rather a hardship; but dressing by candlelight to go home is quite another thing from doing it for lessons. A very small breakfast was eaten, and then the fly came to take them to the station. I do not know how it was that Catherine was not to go with the same party as Lucy,-if she had there would have been no story to tell. Lucy kissed her, and felt very sorry that Catherine had no happy home to go to like she had. "But you will meet your sisters, shan't you?” said Lucy, as she jumped into the fly; "and then you are coming to us; papa and mamma expect you, so you will be sure to come, will you not? Good-bye, good-bye!” and off the party started.

The French teacher had the charge of this first detachment. They were soon seated in the train and borne swiftly away across the wintry fields, looking

bare and desolate enough; but it was the way home, and what did they want more?

An hour or two passed on, and then the French teacher told Lucy that they were within fifteen miles of London, and that she must prepare to get out at the next station, where her parents would meet her.

"Oh no, if you please, Mademoiselle," replied Lucy. "Papa and mamma are to meet me in London."

"You know nothing about it, they will meet you here; we are nearly at the station, look out and see if you can see them."

Lucy did as she was bid, and put her head out of the window; but she knew well her home was the other side of London, and that it was not the least likely she should see them there. "You do not see them?" continued Mademoiselle; "ah, well, they will soon come: porter, let this young lady out, and get her boxes for her, and she will wait till somebody meets her." Lucy was too good a girl to resist; besides, she had no time to think, so she was hurried out of the carriage and put against a pillar, while her luggage was fetched and placed beside her. Mademoiselle again called to her to wait there till she was met. Then the train went off, leaving Lucy alone on the platform in a strange place where she had never been before.

Poor little Lucy! when she found herself really left alone her heart sank down, and she felt very sad. I only wonder she did not sit down upon her schoolbox and cry, but she was a brave girl, and did no such thing; she only waited patiently till one of the

porters came up and asked her if she expected any one to meet her. Then Lucy told her story, and said it was all a mistake of the French teacher's, and that she was sure her papa and mamma would never come here to meet her. And here I think, in justice to the French teacher, I ought to tell you that some years before a cousin of Lucy's had been at Mrs. Newman's school, and she often got out at this same station to visit an uncle who was then living near; so that I suppose Mademoiselle had somehow taken it into her head that this uncle was Lucy's papa So that it was only a mistake, though for Lucy a serious mistake indeed.

The porter secmed as much surprised at it as you can be, and seemed to feel for her very much. "But never mind, little miss," he said, kindly, "I will take care of you, and it shall be all right. I will just run down with you to my cottage till I am off duty, and then I'll go to London with you, and if we don't find anybody, why we'll go on, and I'll be sure and take you safe home."

Lucy thanked him, and felt very glad in her heart that she had found a friend. So he took her to his house, and his wife gave her some coffee, and some bread to eat, and then she played with his little baby, and felt perfect confidence that her new friend would do what he had said he would do.

Meanwhile, Lucy's parents had come up from the country, in eager expectation of meeting their child; for papas and mammas are in the habit of looking forward to the holidays quite as much as their children do. When the expected train came in they