It shakes so I ca n't get it right , '' she said , rather impatiently . `` No , it will tremble 'cause it 's weak . I try hard , Sy , but there does n't seem to be much strongness in me lately . '' `` That 's better ; keep it so a few minutes and I 'll be done , '' cried the artist , forgetting that a few minutes may seem ages . `` My arm is so thin you can see the bunches nicely , -- ca n't you ? '' `` Yes , dear . '' Psyche glanced up at the wasted limb , and when she drew again there was a blur before her eyes for a minute . `` I wish I was as fat as this white boy ; but I get thinner every day somehow , and pretty soon there wo n't be any of me left but my little bones , '' said the child , looking at the winged cherub with sorrowful envy . `` Do n't , my darling ; do n't say that , '' cried Psyche , dropping her work with a sudden pang at her heart . `` I 'm a sinful , selfish girl to keep you here ! you 're weak for want of air ; come out and see the chickens , and pick dandelions , and have a good romp with the boys . '' The weak arms were strong enough to clasp Psyche 's neck , and the tired face brightened beautifully as the child exclaimed , with grateful delight , -- `` Oh , I 'd like it very much ! I wanted to go dreadfully ; but everybody is so busy all the time . I do n't want to play , Sy ; but just to lie on the grass with my head in your lap while you tell stories and draw me pretty things as you used to . '' The studio was deserted all that afternoon , for Psyche sat in the orchard drawing squirrels on the wall , pert robins hopping by , buttercups and mosses , elves and angels ; while May lay contentedly enjoying sun and air , sisterly care , and the `` pretty things '' she loved so well . Psyche did not find the task a hard one ; for this time her heart was in it , and if she needed any reward she surely found it ; for the little face on her knee lost its weary look , and the peace and beauty of nature soothed her own troubled spirit , cheered her heart , and did her more good than hours of solitary study . Finding , much to her own surprise , that her fancy was teeming with lovely conceits , she did hope for a quiet evening . But mother wanted a bit of gossip , father must have his papers read to him , the boys had lessons and rips and grievances to be attended to , May 's lullaby could not be forgotten , and the maids had to be looked after , lest burly `` cousins '' should be hidden in the boiler , or lucifer matches among the shavings . So Psyche 's day ended , leaving her very tired , rather discouraged , and almost heart-sick with the shadow of a coming sorrow . All summer she did her best , but accomplished very little , as she thought ; yet this was the teaching she most needed , and in time she came to see it .
In the autumn May died , whispering , with her arms about her sister 's neck , -- `` You make me so happy , XXXXX , I would n't mind the pain if I could stay a little longer .
Sy afternoon bunches evening left minute rips robins squirrels strongness