t far surpassed all her
dreams.

"You'd done such lovely paintings in our books, that we felt we wanted
to put something in yours," said Avis, "though I'm afraid our
productions won't be very nice. I can't draw a stroke, and my writing's
not at all elegant. I think you'd better not ask me."

In spite of Avis's protestations, Patty naturally asked her and the rest
of the class for contributions, and the twenty-one souvenirs which
resulted went a long way towards filling her volume. They varied much,
both in quality and quantity, from Maggie Woodhall's fine pen-and-ink
drawing to May Firth's washy little attempt at a landscape, or the short
poetical quotation signed "Beatrice Wynne". Cissie Gardiner, always of a
romantic turn of mind, copied "Has sorrow thy young days shaded?" from
Moore's _Irish Melodies_, in her neatest handwriting. Naughty Winnie,
who liked to make fun of Cissie, added a version of her own on the
opposite page, which greatly destroyed the sentiment of the first, and
provoked much laughter in the class. It ran thus:--

"Has sorrow thy young days shaded?
Are schoolbooks and inkpots thy fate?
Too soon is thy fair face faded
By working at Euclid so late.
Doth French thy bright spirit wither,
Or Grammar thy happiness sear?
Then, child of misfortune, come hither,
I'll weep with thee tear for tear."

"It's too bad!" said Cissie. "It spoils my verses; and Moore's my
favourite poet just now. I like him far better than Keats; I think his
pieces about soldiers and glory are simply splendid."

All the girls exerted themselves so much on Patty's behalf, that her
album seemed to bring out an amount of talent lying dormant in the class
which nobody had suspected before. Inspired by Winnie's original lines,
several of the others set to work to make up verses, and the results
were so satisfactory, that the authors felt themselves quite budding
poetesses. Ethel Maitland, a quiet girl in the lower division,
astonished everybody by the following composition, which was the more
unexpected as nobody had ever considered her in the least clever.

TO PATTY

I thank the chance that doth afford
Th' occasion fair and happy,
Upon this page to thus record
My gratitude to Patty.
Within my album she hath wrought
A picture of red roses,
All painted with most cunning skill,
The prettiest of posies.
Had I but talent, in return
A