 CHAPTER I Being Boston girls, of course they got up a club for mental improvement, and, as they were all descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers, they called it the Mayflower Club. A very good name, and the six young girls who were members of it made a very pretty posy when they met together, once a week, to sew and read well-chosen books. At the first meeting of the season, after being separated all summer, there was a good deal of gossip to be attended to before the question, What shall we read? came up for serious discussion. Anna Winslow, as president, began by proposing Happy Dodd, but a chorus of, I've read it, made her turn to her list for another title. Prisoners of poverty is all about working women, very true and very sad, but Momma said it might do as good to know something of the hard times other girls have, said Anna soberly, for she was a thoughtful creature, very anxious to do her duty in all ways. I'd rather not know about sad things, since I can't help to make them any better, answered Ella Carver, softly patting the apple blossoms she was embroidering on a bit of blue satin. Well we might help if we really tried, I suppose, you know how much Happy Dodd did when she once began, and she was only a poor little girl, without half the means of doing good which we have, said Anna, glad to discuss the matter, for she had a little plan in her head and wanted to prepare a way for proposing it. Yes, I'm always saying that I have more than my share of fun and comfort and pretty things and that I ought and will share them with someone, but I don't do it, and now and then, when I hear about real poverty or dreadful sickness I feel so wicked it quite upsets me, if I knew how to begin I really would, but dirty little children don't come in my way nor tipsy women to be reformed, nor nice lame girls to sing and pray with as it all happens in books, cried Mary and Warren, with such a remorseful expression on her merry round face that her mates laughed with one accord. I know something that I could do if I only had the courage to begin it, but Papa would shake his head unbelievably and Mama worry about it being proper, and it would interfere with my music and everything nice that I especially wanted to go to would be sure to come on whatever day I set for my good work, and I should get discouraged or ashamed and not have to do it, so I don't begin, but I know I ought. And Elizabeth Alden rolled her large eyes from one friend to another, as if appealing to them to goad her to this duty by counsel and encouragement of some sort. Well, I suppose it's right, but I do perfectly hate to go poking round among poor folks, smelling bad smells, seeing dreadful sights, hearing woeful tales, and running the risk of catching fever and diphtheria and horrid things. I don't pretend to like charity, but say right out I'm a silly, selfish wretch, and want to enjoy every minute and not worry about other people, isn't it shameful? Maggie Bradford looked such a sweet little sitter as she boldly made this sad confession that no one could scold her, though I had a standish, her bosom friend shook her head, and Anna said, with a sigh, I'm afraid we all feel very much as Maggie does, though we don't own it so honestly. Last spring when I was ill and I thought I might die, I was so ashamed of my idle frivolous winter that I felt I'd give all I had to be able to live it over and do better. Much is not expected of a girl of eighteen, I know, but oh, there were heaps of kind little things I might have done if I hadn't thought only of myself. I resolved if I lived I'd try at least to be less selfish, and make someone happier for my being in the world. I tell you girls it's rather solemn when you lie expecting to die, and your sins come up before you even though they are very small ones. I never shall forget it, and after my lovely summer I mean to be a better girl and lead a better life if I can. Anna was so much in earnest that her words, straight out of a very innocent and contrite heart, touched her hearers deeply, and put them in the right mood to embrace her proposition. No one spoke for a moment, then Maggie said quietly. I know what it is, I felt very much so when the horses ran away, and for fifteen minutes I sat clinging to Mama, expecting to be killed. Every unkind, unbeautiful word I had ever said to her came back to me, and was worse to bear than the fear of sudden death. I had scared a great deal of naughtiness out of me, and dear Mama and I have been more to each other ever since. Let us begin with the prisoners of poverty, and perhaps it will show us something to do, said Lizzie, but I must say I never felt as if shop girls needed much help. They generally seem so contented with themselves, and so purred or patronizing to us that I don't pity them a bit, though it must be a hard life. I think we can't do much in that direction, except set an example of good manners when we go shopping. I want to propose that we each choose some small charity for this winter, and do it faithfully. That will teach us how to do more by and by, and we can help one another with our experiences perhaps, or amuse with our failures. What do you say? Ask Dana, surveying her five friends with a persuasive smile. What could we do? People will call us goody-goody. I haven't the least idea how to go to work. Don't believe Mama will let me. We better change our names from May flowers to Sisters of Charity, and wear meek black bonnets and flapping cloaks. Anna received these replies with great composure, and waited for the meeting to come to order, well knowing that the girls would have their fun and outcry first, and then set to work in good earnest. I think it's a lovely idea, and I'll carry out my plan, but I won't tell you what it is yet. You'd all shout, and say I couldn't do it. But if you were trying also, that would keep me up to the mark, said Lizzie, with the decided snap of her scissors as she trimmed the edges of a plush case for her beloved music. Suppose we all keep our attempt secret, and not let our right-hand know what the left-hand does. It's such fun to mystify people, and then no one can laugh at us. If we fail, we can say nothing. If we succeed, we can tell of it, and get our reward. I'd like that way, and we'll look round once for some especially horrid, boot-black, ungrateful old woman, or ugly child, and devote myself to him, her, or it, with the patience of a saint, cried Maggie, caught by the idea of doing good and secret and being found out by accident. The other girls agreed after some discussion, and then Anna took the floor again. I proposed that we each work in our own way till next May. Then at our last meeting, report what we have done truly and honestly, and plan something better for next year. Is it a vote? It evidently was a unanimous vote, for five gold dimples went up, and five blooming faces smiled, as the five girlish voices cried, I! Very well. Now let us decide what to read, and begin at once. I think The Prisoner's a good book, and we doubtless shall get some hints from it. So they began, and for an hour, one pleasant voice after the other, read aloud those sad, true stories of working women and their hard lives, showing these gay young creatures what their pretty clothes cost the real makers of them, and how much injustice, suffering, and wasted strength went into them. It was very sober reading, but most absorbing, for the crochet needles went slower and slower, the lace work lay idle, and a great tear shone like a drop of dew on the apple blossoms, as Ella listened to Rose's story. They skipped the statistics, and dipped here and there, as each took her turn. But when the two hours were over, and it was time for the club to adjourn, all the members were deeply interested in that pathetic book, and more in earnest than before, for this glimpse into other lives showed them how much help was needed, and made them anxious to lend a hand. We can't do much, being only girls, said Anna, but if each does one small chore somewhere, it will pave the way for better work, so we will all try at least, though it seems like so many ants trying to move a mountain. Well, ants build nests higher than a man's head in Africa. You remember the picture of them in our old geographies? And we can do as much, I'm sure. If each tugs her pebble or straw faithfully, I shall shoulder mine tomorrow, if Mama is willing, answered Lizzie, shedding up her work bag, as if she had got her resolution inside, and was afraid it might evaporate before she got home. I shall stand on the common, and proclaim aloud, Here's a nice young missionary in want of a job, charity for sale cheap, hool-bye, hool-bye, said Maggie, with a resigned expression and a sanctimonious twang to her voice. I shall wait and see what comes to me, since I don't know what I'm fit for. And Marion gazed out the window, as if expecting to see some interesting popper waiting for her to appear. I shall ask Miss Bliss for advice. She knows all about the poor, and will give me a good start, added prudent Ida, who resolved to do nothing rashly lest she fail. I shall probably have a class of dirty little girls, and teach them how to sew, as I can't do anything else. They won't learn much, but steal, and break, and mess, and be a dreadful trial, and I shall get laughed at, and wish I hadn't done it. Still, I shall try it, and sacrifice my fancy work to the cause of virtue, said Ella, carefully putting away her satin glove case with a fond glance at the delicate flowers she so loved to embroider. I have no plans, but want to do so much. I shall have to wait till I discover what is best. After today we won't speak of our work, or it won't be a secret any longer. In May we will report. Good luck to all, and goodbye till next Saturday. With these farewell words from their president, the girls departed with great plans and new ideas, simmering in their young heads and hearts. It seemed a vast undertaking, but where there is a will, there is always a way, and soon it was evident that each had found a little chore to do for sweet charity's sake. Not a word was said at the weekly meetings, but the artless faces betrayed all shades of hope, discouragement, pride, and doubt, as their various attempts seemed likely to succeed or fail. Much curiosity was felt, and a few accidental words, hints, or meetings in queer places were very exciting, though nothing was discovered. Marion was often seen in a north end car, and Lizzie in a south end car, with a bag of books and papers. Ella haunted a certain shop where fancy articles were sold, and Ida always brought plain sewing to the club. Maggie seemed very busy at home, and Anna was found writing industriously several times when one of her friends called. All seemed very happy and rather important when outsiders questioned them about their affairs. But they had their pleasures as usual, and seemed to enjoy them with an added relish as if they realized as never before how many blessings they possessed and were grateful for them. So the winter passed, and slowly something new and pleasant seemed to come into the lives of these young girls. The listless, discontented looks some of them used to wear passed away. A sweet earnestness and a cheerful activity made them charming, though they did not know it, and wondered when people said, that set of girls are growing up beautifully, they will make fine women by and by. The Mayflowers were budding under the snow, and as spring came on, the fresh perfume began to steal out, the rosy faces to brighten, and the last year's dead leaves to fall away, leaving the young plants green and strong. On the fifteenth of May the club met for the last time that season, as some left town early, and all were full of spring work and summer plans. Every member was in her place at an unusually early hour that day, and each wore an air of mingled anxiety, expectation, and satisfaction, pleasant to behold. Anna called them to order with three wraps of her thimble and a beaming smile. We need not choose a book for our reading today, as each of us is to contribute an original history of her winter's work. I know it will be very interesting, and I hope more instructive, than some of the novels we have read. Who shall begin? You, you, was the unanimous answer, for all loved and respected her very much, and felt that their presiding officer should open the ball. Anna coloured modestly, but surprised her friends by the composure with which she related her little story, quite as if used to public speaking. You know I told you last November that I should have to look about for something that I could do. I did look a long time, and was rather in despair, when my test came to me in the most unexpected way. Our winter work was being done, so I had a good deal of shopping on my hands, and found it less of a bore than usual, because I liked to watch the shop girls, and wish I dared ask some of them if I could help them. I went off into get trimmings and buttons at cottons, and had a good deal to do with the two girls at that counter. They were very obliging and patient about matching some jet ornaments for Mama, and I found out that their names were Mary and Maria Porter. I liked them, for they were very neat and plain in their dress, not like some who seem to think that if their waist is small, and their hair dressed in the fashion it is no matter how soiled their collars are, nor how untidy their nails. Well one day, when I went for certain kinds of buttons which were to be made for us, Maria, the younger one who took the order, was not there. I asked for her, and Mary said she was at home with a lame knee. I was so sorry, and ventured to put a few questions in a friendly way. Mary seemed glad to tell her troubles, and I found that Maria, as she called her sister, had been suffering for a long time but did not complain for fear of losing her place. No stools are allowed at cottons, so the poor girls stand nearly all day, or rest a minute now and then on a half-open drawer. I had seen Maria doing it, and wondered why someone did not make a stir about seats in this place, as they have in other stores and got stools for the shop women. I didn't dare speak to the gentleman, but I gave Mary the jack roses I wore in my breast, and asked if I might take some books or flowers to poor Maria. It was lovely to see her sad-faced light up, and hear her thank me when I went to see her, for she was very lonely without her sister, and discouraged about her place. She did not lose it entirely, but had to work at home, for her lame knee will be a long time in getting well. I begged Mama and Mrs. Ailingham to speak to Mr. Cotton for her, so she got the mending of the jet and beadwork to do, and buttons to cover and things of that sort. Mary takes them to and fro, and Maria feels so happy not to be idle. We also got stools for all the other girls in that shop. Mrs. Ailingham is so rich and kind she can do anything, and now it's such a comfort to see those tired things resting when off duty that I often go in to enjoy the sight. Anna paused as cries of good, good, interrupted her tale, but she did not add the prettiest part of it, and tell how the faces of the young women behind the counters brightened when she came in, nor how gladly all served the young lady who showed them what a true gentlewoman was. I hope that isn't all, said Maggie eagerly. Only a little more. I know you will laugh when I tell you that I've been reading papers to a class of shop girls at the union once a week all winter. A murmur of awe and admiration greeted this deeply interesting statement. Four, true to the traditions of the modern Athens in which they lived, the girls all felt the highest respect for papers on any subject, it being the fashion for ladies, young and old, to read and discuss every subject from pottery to pantheism at the various clubs all over the city. It came about very naturally, continued Anna, as if anxious to explain her seeming audacity. I used to go see Molly and Rhea, and hear all about their life and its few pleasures, and learn to like them more and more. They had only each other in the world, lived in two rooms, worked all day, and in the way of amusement or instruction had only what they found at the union in the evening. I went with them a few times, and saw how useful and pleasant it was, and wanted to help as other kind girls only a little older than I did. Eva Randall read a letter from a friend in Russia one time, and the girls enjoyed it very much. That reminded me of my brother George's lively journals, written when he was abroad. You remember how we used to laugh over them when he sent them home? Well, when I was begged to give them an evening, I resolved to try one of those amusing journal letters, and chose the best, all about how George and a friend went to the different places Dickens describes in some of his funny books. I wish you could have seen how those dear girls enjoyed it, and laughed till they cried over the dismay of the boys, when they knocked at a door in Kingsgate Street, and asked if Mrs. Gamp lived there. It was actually a barber shop, and a little man, very like Paul Sweetlepipes, told them, Mrs. Britton was the nurses lived there now. It upset those rascals to come so near the truth, and they ran away because they couldn't keep sober. The members of the club indulged in a general smile as they recalled the immortal seri, with the bottle on the mangle shelf, the cowcumber, and the wooden pippins. Then Anna continued with an air of calm satisfaction, quite sure now of her audience and herself. It was a great success, so I went on, and when the journals were done I used to read other things, and picked up books for their library, and helped in any way I could, while learning to know them better and give them confidence in me. They are proud and shy, just as we should be. But if you really want to be friends, and don't mind rebuffs now and then, they come to trust and like you, and there is so much to do for them, one need never sit idle any more. I won't give names as they don't like it, nor tell how I tried to serve them, but it is very sweet and good for me to have found this work, and to know that each year I can do it better and better. So I feel encouraged, and am very glad I began, as I hope you all are. Now, who comes next? As Anna ended, the needles dropped, and ten soft hands gave her a hearty round of applause, for all felt that she had done well, and chosen a task especially fitted to her powers, as she had money, time, tact, and the winning manners that make friends everywhere. Beaming with pleasure their approval, but feeling that they made too much of her small success, Anna called the club to order by saying, Ella looks as if she were anxious to tell her experiences, so perhaps we had better ask her to hold forth next. Here, here, cried the girls, and, nothing loath, Ella promptly began with twinkling eyes and a demure smile, for her story ended romantically. If you are interested in shop girls, Miss President and ladies, you will like to know that I am one, at least a silent partner and co-worker, in a small fancy store at the West End. No! exclaimed the amazed club with one voice, unsatisfied with this sensational beginning Ella went on. I really am, and you have bought some of my fancy work, isn't that a good joke? You needn't stare so, for I actually made that needlebook, Anna, and my partner, knit Lizzie's new cloud. This is the way it all happened. I didn't wish to waste any time, but one can't rush into the street, and call her shabby little girls, and say, come along and learn to sew, without a struggle, so I thought I'd go and ask Mrs. Brown how to begin. Our branch of the associated charities is in Laurel Street, not far from our house, you know, and the very day after our last meeting I posted off to get my chore. I expected to have to fit work for poor needlewomen, or go to see some dreadful sick creature, or wash dirty little pats, and was bracing up my mind for whatever might come, as I toiled up the hill in a gale of wind. Suddenly my hat flew off, and went gaily skipping away to the great delight of some black imps, who only grinned and cheered me on, as I trotted after it with wild grabs and wrathful dodges. I got it at last out of a puddle, and there I was in a nice mess. The elastic was broken, feather wet, and the poor thing all mud and dirt. I didn't care much, as it was my old one, dressed for my work, you see. But I couldn't go home bare-headed, and I didn't know a soul in that neighborhood. I turned to step into a grocery store at the corner to borrow a brush, or buy a sheet of paper to wear, for I looked like a lunatic with my battered hat and my hair in a perfect mop. Luckily I spied a women's fancy shop on the other corner, and rushed in there to hide myself, for the brats hooded and people stared. It was a very small shop, and behind the counter sat a tall, thin, washed-out-looking woman making a baby's hood. She looked poor and blue, and rather sour, but took pity on me. And while she sewed the cord, dried the feather, and brushed off the dirt, I warmed myself, and looked about to see what I could buy in return for her trouble. A few children's aprons hung in the little window with some knit lace, balls, and old-fashioned garters, two or three dolls, and a very poor display of small wares. In a showcase, however, on the table that was the counter, I found some really pretty things, made of plush silk and ribbon with a good deal of taste. So I said I'd buy a needle book and a gay ball, and a pair of distracting baby shoes made to look like little open-work socks with pink ankle ties, so cunning and dainty I was glad to get them for cousin Clara's baby. The woman seemed pleased, though she had a grim way of talking and never smiled once. I observed that she handled my hat as if used to such work, and evidently liked to do it. I thanked her for repairing damages so quickly and well, and she said, with my hat on her hand, as if she hated a part with it, I'm used to milliner in, and never should have given up if I didn't have my folks to see to. I took this shop, hoping to make things go, as such as place was needed round here, but mother broke down and is a sight of care, so I couldn't leave her, and doctors is expensive and times hard, and I had to drop my trade and fall back on pins and needles and so on. Ella was a capital mimic and imitated the nasal tones of the Vermont woman to the life with a doleful pucker of her own blooming face, which gave such a truthful picture of poor Miss Almira Miller that those who had seen her recognized it at once and laughed gaily. Just as I was murmuring a few words of regret at her bad luck, continued Ella, a sharp voice called from a back room, Almirae, Almirae, come here. It sounded like a very cross parrot, but it was the old lady, and when I put on my hat, I heard her asking who was in the shop and what we were gabbing about. Her daughter told her, and the old soul demanded to see the gal, so I went in being ready for fun as usual. It was a little dark dismal place, but as neat as a pin, and in the bed sat a regular grandma smallweeds smoking a pipe with a big cap, a snuff box, and a red cotton handkerchief. She was a tiny dried up thing, brown as a berry, with eyes like black beads, a nose and chin that nearly met and hands like bird's claws, but such a fierce, lively, curious, blunt old lady you never saw, and I didn't know what would be the end of me when she began to question, then to scold, and finally to demand that folks should come and trade to Almirae's shop after promising they would and she haven't took the lease of the place on account of them lies. I wanted to laugh, but dared not do it, so just let her croak, for the daughter had to go to her customers. The old lady's tirade informed me that they came from Vermont, had been while on it till father died and the farm was sold. Then it seemed the women came to Boston and got on pretty well till a stroke, a numb palsy, whatever that is, made the mother helpless and kept Almirae at home to care for her. I can't tell you how funny and yet how sad it was to see the poor old soul so full of energy and yet so helpless and the daughter so discouraged with her pathetic little shop and no customers to speak of. I did not know what to say till Grammar Miller, as the children call her, happened to say when she took up her knitting after the lecture. If folks who go spendin' money reckless on ridiculous toys for Christmas only knew what nice things, useful and fancy, me and Almirae could make if we had the goods, they'd just come round this corner and buy him and keep me out of an old woman's home and that good hard-working galamine out of asylum. For go there she will if she don't get a boost somehow with rant and fire and vitals all on her shoulders and me only able to wag them knit and needles. I will buy things here and tell all my friends about it and I have a drawer full of pretty bits of silk and velvet and plush that I will give Miss Miller for her work if she will let me. I added that for I saw that Almirae was rather proud and hid her troubles under a grim look. That pleased the old lady and lowering her voice, she said, with a motherly sort of look in her beady eyes. Seeing as you were so friendly, I'll tell you what frets me most to lay in here a burden to my daughter. She kept company with Nathan Baxter, a master carpenter up to Westminster where we lived and a father had in a dyed sudden day to been married. They waited a number of years workin' to their trades and we was hopin' all would turn out well when troubles come and here we be. Nathan's got his own folks to see to and Almirae won't add to his load with her nor leave me, so she give him back his ring and just buckle to all alone. She don't say a word, but it's wearin' her to a shatter and I can't do a thing to help but make a few pinballs, knit garters and cover holders. If she got a startin' business, it would cheer her up a sight and give her a kind of hopeful prospect for old folks can't live forever and Nathan is a waitin', faithful and true. That just finished me, for I am romantic and do enjoy love stories with all my heart, even if the lovers are only a skinny spinster and a master carpenter. So I just resolved to see what I could do for poor Almirae and the peppery old lady. I didn't promise anything but my bits and taking the things I bought went home to talk it over with Mama. I found she had often got pins and tape and such small wares at the little shop and found it very convenient though she knew nothing about the millers. She was willing I should help if I could but advised going slowly and seeing what they could do first. We did not dare to treat them like beggars and send them money and clothes and tea and sugar as we do the Irish, for they were evidently respectable people and proud as poor. So I took my bundle of odds and ends and Mama added some nice large pieces of dresses we had done with and gave a fine order for aprons and holders and balls for our church fair. It would have done your hearts good girls to see those poor old faces light up as I showed my scraps and asked if the work would be ready by Christmas. Grandma fairly swam in the gay colors I strewed over her bed and enjoyed them like a child. While Almirae tried to be grim but had to give it up as she began at once to cut out aprons and dropped tears all over the muslin when her back was turned to me. I didn't owe a washed out old maid could be so pathetic. Ella stopped to give a regretful sigh over her past blindness while her hearers made a sympathetic murmur for young hearts are very tender and take an innocent interest in lovers' sorrows no matter how humble. Well that was the beginning of it. I got so absorbed in making things go well that I didn't look any further but just buckled too with Miss Miller and helped run that little shop. No one knew me in that street so I slipped in and out and did what I liked. The old lady and I got to be great friends though she often pecked and croaked like a cross-raven and was very wearing. I kept her busy with her pinballs and knit and work and supplied Almirae with pretty materials for the various things I found she could make. You wouldn't believe what dainty bows those long fingers could tie what ravishing dolls hats she would make out of a scrap of silk and lace or the ingenious things she could cocted with cones and shells and fans and baskets. I love such work and used to go and help her often for I wanted her window and shop to be full for Christmas and lure in plenty of customers. Our new toys and the little cases of sewing silk sold well and people began to come more after I lent Almirae some money to lay in a better stock of goods. Papa enjoyed my business venture immensely and was never tired of joking about it. He actually went and bought balls for four small black boys who were gluing their noses to the window one day, spellbound by the orange, red and blue treasures there. He liked my partner's looks though he teased me by saying that we'd better add lemonade to our stock as poor dear Almirae's face would make lemons unnecessary and sugar and water were cheap. Well Christmas came and we did a great business for Mama came and sent others and our fancy things were as pretty and cheaper than those at the art stores so they went well and the Millers were cheered up and I felt encouraged and we took a fresh start after the holidays. One of my gifts at New Year was my own glove case. You remember the apple blossom thing I began last autumn? I put it in our window to fill up and Mama bought it and gave it to me full of elegant gloves with a sweet note and Papa sent a check to Miller, Warren and Company. I was so pleased and proud I could hardly help telling you all but the best joke was the day you girls came in and bought our goods and I peeped at you through the crack of the door being in the back room dying with laughter to see you look around and praise our nice assortment of useful and pretty articles. That's all very well and we can bear to be laughed at if you succeeded miss but I don't believe you did for no Millers are there now. Have you taken a palatial store on Boylston Street for this year intending to run it alone? We'll all patronize it and your name will look well on a sign said Maggie wondering what the end of Ella's experience had been. Ah, I still have the best of it from my romance finished up delightfully as usual here. We did well all winter and no wonder what was needed was a little boost in the right direction and I could give it so my Millers were much comforted and we were good friends but in March grammar died suddenly and poor Elmerie mourned as if she had been the sweetest mother in the world. The old lady's last wishes were to be laid out handsome in a cap with a pale blue satin ribbon, white wasn't becoming to have at least three carriages to the funeral and be sure a paper with her death in it was sent to end Baxter, Westminster, Vermont. I faithfully obeyed her commands put on the ugly cap myself gave a party of old ladies from the home a drive in the hacks and carefully directed a marked paper to Nathan hoping that he had proved faithful and true. I didn't expect he would so was not surprised when no answer came. But I was rather amazed when Elmerie told me she didn't care to keep on with the store now she was free. She wanted to visit her friends a spell this spring and in the fall would go back to her trade in some mill in her store. I was sorry for I really enjoyed my partnership. It seemed a little bit ungrateful after all my trouble in getting her customers but I didn't say anything. And we sold out to the widow-baits who is a good soul with six children and will profit by our efforts. Elmerie bid me goodbye with all the grim look gone out of her face. Many thanks and a hearty promise to write soon. That was in April. A week ago I got a short letter saying, dear friend, you will be pleased to hear that I am married to Mr. Baxter and shall remain here. He was away when the paper came with mother's death but as soon as he got home he wrote. I couldn't make up my mind till I got home and see him. Now it's all right and I'm very happy. Many thanks for all you done for me and mother. I shall never forget it. My husband sends respects and I remain yours gratefully, Elmira M. Baxter. That's splendid, you did well. And next winter you can look up another sour spencer and cranky old lady and make them happy, said Anna with the approving smile I'll love to receive from her. My adventures are not a bit romantic or even interesting and yet I've been as busy as a bee all winter and enjoyed my work very much, began Elizabeth as the president gave her a nod. The plan I had in mind was to go and carry books and papers to the people in hospitals as one of mama's friends has done for years. I went once to the city hospital with her and it was very interesting but I didn't dare to go to the grown people all alone. So I went to the children's hospital and soon loved to help him use the poor little deers. I saved all the picture books and papers I could find for them, dressed dolls and mended toys and got new ones and made bibs and nightgowns and felt like the mother of a large family. I had my pets of course and did my best for them reading and singing and amusing them for many suffered much. One little girl was so dreadfully burned she could not use her hands and would lie and look at a gay dolly tied to the bed post by the hour together and talk to it and love it and died with it on her pillow when I sung lullaby to her for the last time. I keep it among my treasures for I learned a lesson in patience from little Nora that I can never forget. Then Jimmy Dolan with hip disease was a great delight to me for he was as gay as a lark in spite of pain and a real little hero in the way he bore the hard things that had to be done to him. He never can get well and he is at home now but I still see to him and he is learning to make toy furniture very nicely so that by and by if he gets able to work at all he may be able to learn a cabinet makers trade or some easy work. But my pet of pets was Johnny the blind boy. His poor eyes had to be taken out and there he was left so helpless and pathetic all his life before him and no one to help him for his people were poor and he had to go away from the hospital since he was incurable. He seemed almost given to me for the first time I saw him I was singing to Jimmy when the door opened and a small boy came fumbling in. I hear a pretty voice I want to find it he said stopping as I stopped with both hands out as if begging for more. Come on Johnny and the lady will sing to you like a bobble ink called Jimmy as proud as Barnum showing off jumbo. The poor little thing came and stood at my knee without stirring while I sang all the nursery jingles I knew. Then he put such a thin little finger on my lips as if to feel where the music came from and said smiling all over his white face more please more lots of them I love it. So I sang away till I was as horse as a crow and Johnny drank it all in like water kept time with his head stamped when I gave him marching through Georgia and Herod feebly in the chorus of red white and blue. It was lovely to see how he enjoyed it and I was so glad I had a voice to comfort those poor babies with. He cried when I had to go and so touched my heart that I asked all about him and resolved to get him into the blind school as the only place where he could be taught and made happy. I thought you were bound there the day I met you Lizzie but you looked as solemn as if all your friends had lost their sight. Cried Marion. I did feel solemn for if Johnny could not go there he would be badly off. Fortunately he was 10 and dear Mrs. Russell helped me and those good people took him in though they were crowded. We cannot turn one away said kind of Mr. Papa Thargus. So there my boy is as happy as a king with his little mates learning all sorts of useful lessons and pretty plays. He models nicely in clay. Here's one of his little works. Could you do as well without eyes? And Lizzie proudly produced a very one-sided pair with a long straw for a stem. I don't expect he will ever be a sculptor but I hope he will do something with music. He loves it so and is already piping away on a fife very cleverly. Whatever his gift may prove if he lives he will taught to be a useful independent man not a helpless burden nor an unhappy creature sitting alone in the dark. I feel very happy about my lads and I'm surprised to find how well I get on with them. I shall look up some more next year for I really think I have quite a gift that way though you wouldn't expect it as I have no brothers and always had a fancy boys were little imps. The girls were much amused at Lizzie's discovery of her own powers for she was a stately damsel who'd never indulged in romps but lived for her music. Now it was evident that she had found the key to unlock childish hearts and was learning to use it quite unconscious that the sweet voice she valued so highly was much improved by the tender tones singing lullabies gave it. The fat pair was passed round like refreshments receiving much praise and no harsh criticism and when it was safely returned to its proud possessor Ida began her tale in a lively tone. I waited for my chore and it came tumbling down our basement steps one rainy day in the shape of a large dilapidated umbrella with a pair of small boots below it. A mild howl made me run to open the door for I was at lunch in the dining room all alone and rather blue because I couldn't go over to see Ella. A very small girl lay with her head in a puddle at the foot of the steps the boots waving in the air and the umbrella brooding over her like a draggled green bird. Are you hurt child said I? No I think you ma'am said the might quite calmly as she sat up and settled a woman's shabby black hat on her head. Did you come begging? I asked. No ma'am I came for some things Mrs. Grover's got for us. She told me to I don't beg. And up rose the sopping thing with great dignity. So I asked her to sit down and ran up to call Mrs. Grover. She was busy with grandpa just then and when I went back to my lunch there sat my lady with her arms folded water dripping out of the toes of her old boots as they hung down from the high chair and the biggest blue eyes I ever saw fixed upon the cake and oranges on the table. I gave her a piece and she sighed with rapture but only picked at it till I asked if she didn't like it. Oh yes ma'am it's elegant. Only I was wishing I could take it to Caddy and Todd if he didn't mind. They never had frosted in all their lives and I did once. Of course I put up a little basket of cakes and oranges and figs and while Lottie feasted we talked. I found that their mother washed dishes all day in a restaurant over by the Albany station leaving the three children alone in the room they have on Berry Street. Think of that poor thing going off before light these winter mornings to stand over horrid dishes all day long and those three scraps of children alone till night. Sometimes they had a fire and when they hadn't they stayed in bed. Broken food and $4 a week was all the woman got and on that they tried to live. Good Mrs. Grover happened to be nursing a poor soul near Berry Street last summer and used to see the three little things trailing round the streets with no one to look after them. Lottie is nine though she looks about six but is as old as most girls of 14 and takes good care of the babies as she calls the younger ones. Mrs. Grover went to see them and though a hard working creature did all she could for them. This winter she has plenty of time to sew for grand papa needs little done for him except at night and morning and that kind woman spent her own money and got warm flannel and cotton and stuff and made each child a good suit. Lottie had come for hers and when the bundle was in her arms she hugged it close and put up her little face to kiss Grover so prettily I felt that I wanted to do something too. So I hunted up men's old waterproof and rubbers and a hood and sent Lottie at home as happy as a queen promising to go and see her. I did go and there was my work all ready for me. Oh girls such a bare cold room without a spark of fire and no food but a pan of bits and pie and bread and old meat not fit for anyone to eat and in the bed with an old carpet for cover laid the three children. Todd and Catty cuddled in the warmest place while Lottie with her little blue hands was trying to patch up some old stockings with bits of cotton. I didn't know how to begin but Lottie did and I just took her orders for that wise little woman told me where to buy a bushel of coal and some kindlings and milk and meal and all I wanted. I worked like a beaver for an hour or two and was so glad I had been to a cooking class for I could make a fire with Lottie to do the grabby part and start a nice soup with a cold meat and potatoes and an onion or two. Soon the room was warm and full of a nice smell and out of bed tumbled the babies to dance round the stove and sniff at the soup and drink milk like hungry kittens till I could get bread and butter ready. It was great fun and when we had cleared things up a bit and I had put food for supper in the closet and told Lottie to warm a bowl of soup for her mother and keep the fire going. I went home tired and dirty but very glad I had found something to do. It is perfectly amazing how little poor people's things cost and yet they can't get the small amount of money needed without working themselves to death. Why all I bought didn't cost more than I often spend for flowers or theater tickets or lunches and it made those poor babies so comfortable I could have cried to think I had never done it before. I had a pause to shake her head remorsefully then went on with her story sewing busily all the while on an unbleached cotton nightgown which looked about fit for a large doll. I have no romantic things to tell for poor Mrs. Kennedy was a shiftless broken down woman who could only sozzle round as Mrs. Grover said and rub along with help from anyone who would lend a hand. She had lived out, married young and had no faculty about anything so when her husband died and she was left with three little children it was hard to get on with no trade, feeble health and a discouraged mind. She does her best, loves the girls and works hard at the only thing she can find to do but when she gives out they will all have to part she to a hospital and the babies to some home. She dreads that and tugs away trying to keep together and get ahead. Thanks to Mrs. Grover who is very sensible and knows how to help poor people we have made things comfortable and the winter has gone nicely. The mother has got work near her home. Lottie and Catty go to school and Todd is safe and warm with Miss Parsons to look after her. Miss Parsons is a young woman who is freezing and starving in a little room upstairs too proud to beg and too shy and sick to get much work. I found her warming her hands one day in Mrs. Kennedy's room and hanging over the soup pot as if she was eating the smell. It reminded me of the picture in Punch where the two beggar boys look in at a kitchen sniffing at the nice dinner cooking there. One says, I don't care for the meat, Bill but I don't mind if I take the smell at the pudding when it's dished. I proposed a lunch at once and we all sat down and ate soup out of yellow bowls with pewter spoons with such a relish it was fun to see. I had on my old rig so poor Parsons thought I was some dressmaker or work girl and opened her heart to me as if she would never have done if I had gone and demanded her confidence and patronized her as some people do when they want to help. I promised her some work and proposed that she should do it in Mrs. Kay's room as a favor, mind you, so that the older girls could go to school and taught have someone to look after her. She agreed and that saved her fire and made the Kay's all right. Sarah, that's Miss P, tried to stiffen up when she learned where I lived but she wanted the work and soon found I didn't put on airs but lent her books and brought her and taught my bouquets and favors after a German and told her pleasant things as she sat cooking her poor, chill, blaney feed in the oven as if she could never get thawed out. This summer, the whole batch are to go to Uncle Frank's farm and pick berries and get strong. He hires dozens of women and children during the fruit season and Mrs. Grover said it was just what they all needed so off they go in June as Mary is grigs and I shall be able to look after them now and then as I always go to the farm in July. That's all, not a bit interesting but it came to me and I did it though only a small chore. I'm sure the helping of five poor souls is a fine work and you may well be proud of it, Ida. Now I know why you wouldn't go to matinees with me and buy every pretty thing we saw as you used to. The pocket money went for coal and food and your fancy work was little closed for these live dolls of yours. You dear thing, how good you were to cook and grub and prick your fingers rough and give up fun for this kind work. Maggie's hearty kiss and the faces of her friends made Ida feel that her humble task had its worth in their eyes as well as in her own and when the others had expressed their interest in her work all composed themselves to hear what Marion had to tell. I have been taking care of a scarlet runner, a poor old frostbitten neglected thing. It is transplanted now and doing well, I'm happy to say. What do you mean, asked Ella while the rest looked very curious. Marion picked up a dropped stitch in the large blue sock she was knitting and continued with a laugh in her eyes. My dears, that is what we call the soldier's messenger core with their red caps and busy legs trotting all day. I've had one of them to care for and a gorgeous time of it I do assure you. But before I exalt over my success I must honestly confess my failures for they were sad ones. I was so anxious to begin at my work at once that I did go out and call her the first popper I saw. It was an old man who sometimes stands at the corners of streets to sell bunches of ugly paper flowers. You've seen him, I dare say in his magenta daisies and yellow peonies. Well, he was rather a forlorn object with his poor old red nose and bleary eyes and white hair standing at the windy corners silently holding out those horrid flowers. I bought all he had that day and gave them to some colored children on my way home and told him to come to her house and get an old coat mama was waiting to get rid of. He told a pitiful story of himself and his old wife who made the paper horrors in her bed and how they needed everything but didn't wish to beg. I was much touched and flew home to look up the coat in some shoes. And when my old leer came creeping in the back way, I ordered a cook to give him a warm dinner and something nice for the old woman. I was called upstairs while he was mumbling his food and blessing me in the most lovely manner and he went away much comforted, I flattered myself. But an hour later up came the cook in a great panic to report that my venerable and pious beggar had carried off several of papa's shirts and pairs of socks out of the clothes basket in the laundry and the nice warm hood we keep for the girl to hang out clothes in. I was very angry and taking Harry with me went at once to the address the old rascal gave me, a dirty court out of Hanover Street. No such person had ever lived there and my white haired saint was a humbug. Harry laughed at me and mama forbade me to bring any more thieves to the house and the girls scolded awfully. Well, I recovered from the shock and nothing daunted went off to the little Irish woman who sells apples on the common, not the fat, tozy one with the stall near West Street, but the dried up one who sits by the path, nodding over an old basket with six apples and four sticks of candy in it. No one ever seems to buy anything but she sits there and trusts a kind soul as dropping a dime now and then. She looks so feeble and forlorn on the cold, cold ground. She told me another sad tale of being all alone and unable to work and as white as weather grew with had a half worth of flesh upon me bones and for the love of heaven give me a trifle to cape the breath of life in a poor soul with a bitter hard winter over me and never a chick or child to do a hands turn. I hadn't much faith in her, remembering my other humbug, but I did pity the old mummy so I got some tea and sugar and a shawl and used to give her my odd pennies as I passed. I never told at home they made such fun of my efforts to be charitable. I thought I really was getting on pretty well after a time as my old biddy seemed quite cheered up and I was planning to give her some coal when she disappeared all of a sudden. I feared she was ill and asked Mrs. Maloney, the fat woman about her. Lord love you, Miss Deer, it's took up and sent to the island for trey months she is for a drunken old craithor as biddy Ryan and never a scent but goes for whiskey, more shame to her but a fine buyer of her own ready to cape her dicent. Then I was discouraged and went home to fold my hands and see what fate would send me, my own efforts being such failures. Poor thing, it was hard luck, said Elizabeth as they sobered down after the gale of merriment caused by Marion's mishaps and her clever imitation of the brogue. Now tell of your success and the scarlet runner, added Maggie. Ah, that was sent and so I prospered. I must begin ever so far back in war times or I can't introduce my hero properly. You know Papa was in the army and fought all through the war till Gettysburg where he was wounded. He was engaged just before he went so when his father hurried to him after that awful battle, mama went also and helped nurse him till he could come home. He wouldn't go to an officer's hospital but kept with his men in a poor sort of place for many of his boys were hit and he wouldn't leave them. Sergeant Joe Collins was one of the bravest and lost his right arm saving the flag in one of the hottest struggles of that fight. He had been a main lumberman and was over six feet tall but his gentle as a child and as jolly as a boy and very fond of his colonel. Papa left first but made Joe promise to let him know how he got on and Joe did so till he too went home. Then Papa lost sight of him and in the excitement of his own illness and the end of the war and being married Joe Collins was forgotten till we children came along and used to love to hear the stories of Papa's battles and how the brave sergeant caught the flag when the bearer was shot and held it in the rush till one arm was blown off and the other wounded. We have fighting blood in us you know so we were never tired of that story though 25 years or more make it all as far away to us as the old revolution where our ancestor was killed at Arabunker Hill. Last December, just after my sad disappointments Papa came home to dinner one day exclaiming in great glee, I found old Joe. A messenger came with a letter to me and when I looked up to give my answer there stood a tall grizzled fellow as straight as a ramrod grinning from ear to ear with his hand to his temple saluting me in regular style. Don't you remember Joe Collins Colonel? Awful glad to see you sir said he and then it all came back and we had a good talk and I found out that the poor old boy was down on his luck and almost friendless but as proud and independent as ever and bound to take care of himself while he had a leg to stand on. I've got his address and mean to keep an eye on him for he looks feeble and can't make much I'm sure. We were all very glad and Joe came to see us and Papa sent him on endless errands and helped him in that way till he went to New York. Then in the fun and flurry of the holidays we forgot all about Joe till Papa came home and missed him from his post. I said I'd go and find him so Harry and I rummaged about till we did find him in a little house at the North End laid up with rheumatic fever in a stuffy back room with no one to look after him but the washerwoman with whom he bordered. I was so sorry we had forgotten him but he never complained only said with his cheerful grin I kind of mistrusted the colonel was away but I wasn't going to pester him. He tried to be jolly though in dreadful pain called Harry major and was so grateful for all we brought him though he didn't want oranges and tea and made a shout when I said like a goose thinking that was the proper thing to do shall I bathe your brow you're so feverish? No thank you miss it was swabbed pretty stitty to the hospital and I reckoned a trifle of tobacco would do more good and be a sight more relish than if you excuse my mention in it. Harry rushed off and got a great lump in a pipe and Joe lay blissfully puffing in a cloud of smoke when we left him promising to come again. We did go nearly every day and had lovely times for Joe told us his adventures and we got so interested in the war that I began to read up evenings and Papa was pleased and fought all his battles over again for us and Harry and I were great friends reading together and Papa was charmed to see all the old general spirit in us as we got excited and discussed all our wars in a fever of patriotism that made Mama laugh. Joe said I bristled up at the word battle like a war horse at the smell of powder and I had ought to have been a drummer the sound of martial music made me so skittish. It was all new and charming to us young ones but poor old Joe had a hard time and was very ill. Exposure and fatigue and scanty food and loneliness and his wounds were too much for him and it was plain his working days were over. He hated the thought of the poor house at home which was all his own town could offer him and he had no friends to live with and he could not get a pension something being wrong about his papers so he would have been badly off but for the soldiers home at Chelsea. As soon as he was able Papa got him in there and he was glad to go for that seemed the proper place and a charity the proudest man might accept after risking his life for his country. There is where I used to be going when you saw me and I was so afraid you'd smell the cigars in my basket. The dear old boys always want them and Papa says they must have them though it is half so romantic as flowers and jelly and wine and the dainty messes we women always want to carry. I've learned about different kinds of tobacco and cigars and you'd laugh to see me deal out my gifts which are received as gratefully as the Victoria Cross when the Queen decorates her brave men. I'm quite a great gun over there and the boys salute when I'm come. Tell me there woes and think that Papa and I can run the whole concern. I like it immensely and I'm as fond and proud of my dear old wrecks as if I'd been a rigoletto and ridden on a cannon from my baby hood. That's my story but I can't begin to tell how interesting it all is nor how glad I am that it led me to look into the history of American wars in which brave men of our name did their part so well. A hearty round of applause greeted Marion's tale for her glowing face and excited voice stirred the patriotic spirit of the Boston girls and made them beam approvingly upon her. Now Maggie dear, last but not least I'm sure, said Anna with an encouraging glance for she had discovered the secret of this friend and loved her more than ever for it. Maggie blushed and hesitated as she put down the delicate muslin cap strings she was hemming with such care. Then looking about her with a face in which both humility and pride contended, she said with an effort, after the other lively experiences mine will sound very flat. In fact I have no story to tell from my charity began at home and stopped there. Tell it dear, I know it is interesting and will do us all good, said Anna quickly and thus supported Maggie went on. I planned great things and talked about what I meant to do till Papa said one day when things were in a mess as they often are at our house, if the little girls who want to help the world along would remember the charity begins at home they would soon find enough to do. I was rather taken aback and said no more but after Papa had gone to the office I began to think and looked round to see what there was to be done at that particular moment. I found enough for that day and took hold at once for poor mama had one of her bad headaches. The children could not go out because it rained and so were howling in the nursery. Cook was on a rampage and Maria had the toothache. Well I began by making mama lie down for a good long sleep. I kept the children quiet by giving them my ribbon box and jewelry to dress up with, put a poultice on Maria's face and offered to wash the glass and silver for her to appease Cook who was as cross as two sticks over extra work washing day. It wasn't much fun as you may imagine but I got through the afternoon and kept the house still and a dusk crept into mama's room and softly built up the fire so it should be cheery when she waked. Then I went trembling to the kitchen for some tea and there found three girls calling and hijinks going on. For one whisked a plate of cake into the table drawer, another put a cup under her shawl and Cook hid the teapot as I stirred round in the china closet before opening the slide through a crack of which I'd seen, heard and smelled the party as the children called it. I was angry enough to scold the whole set but I wisely held my tongue, shut my eyes and politely asked for some hot water, nodded to the guests and told Cook Maria was better and would do her work if she wanted to go out. So peace reigned and as I settled the tray I heard Cook say in her balmyest tone for I suspect the cake and tea lay heavy on her conscience. The mistresses very poorly and mist takes nice care of her the dear. All blarney but it pleased me and made me remember how feeble poor mama was and how little I really did. So I wept a repentant weep as I toiled upstairs with my tea and toast and found mama all ready for them and so pleased to find things going well. I saw by that what a relief it would be to her if I did it oftener as I ought and I resolved that I would. I didn't say anything but kept on doing whatever came along and before I knew it ever so many duties slipped out of mama's hands into mine and seemed to belong to me. I don't mean that I liked them and didn't grumble to myself. I did and felt regularly crushed and injured sometimes when I wanted to go have my own fun. Duty is right but it isn't easy and the only comfort about it is a sort of quiet feeling you get after a while and a strong feeling as if you had found something to hold onto and keep you steady. I can't express it but you know and Maggie looked wistfully at the other faces some of which answered her with a quick flash of sympathy and some only wore a puzzled yet respectful expression as if they felt they ought to know but did not. I need not tire you with all my humdrum doings continued Maggie. I made no plans but just said each day I'll take what comes and try to be cheerful and contented. So I looked after the children and that left Maria more time to sew and help round. I did errands and went to market and saw that papa had his meals comfortably when mama was not able to come down. I made calls for her and received visitors and soon went on as if I were the lady of the house not a chit of a girl as cousin Tom used to call me. The best of all were the cozy talks we had in the twilight mama and I when she was rested and all the days worry was over and we were waiting for papa. Now when he came I didn't have to go away for they wanted to ask and tell me things and consult about affairs and make me feel that I was really the eldest daughter. Oh it was just lovely to sit between them and know that they needed me and loved to have me with them. That made up for the hard and disagreeable things and not long ago I got my reward. Mama is better and I was rejoicing over it when she said yes I really am mending now and hope soon to be able to relieve my good girl but I want to tell you dear that when I was most discouraged my greatest comfort was that if I had to leave my poor babies they would find such a faithful little mother in you. I was so pleased I wanted to cry for the children do love me and run to me for everything now and thank the world of sister and they didn't used to care much for me. But that wasn't all. I ought not to tell these things perhaps but I'm so proud of them I can't help it. When I asked papa privately if mama was really better and in no danger of falling ill again he said with his arms round me and such a tender kiss. No danger now for this brave little girl put her shoulder to the wheel so splendidly that the dear woman got the relief from care she needed just at the right time and now she really rests sure that we are not being neglected. You couldn't have devoted yourself to a better charity or done it more sweetly my darling. God bless you. Here Maggie's voice gave out and she hit her face with a happy sob that finished her story eloquently. Mary and flew to wipe her tears away with the blue sock and the others gave a sympathetic murmur looking much touched. Forgotten duties of their own rose before them and sudden resolutions were made to attend to them at once seeing how great Maggie's reward had been. I didn't mean to be silly but I wanted you to know that I hadn't been idle all winter and that though I haven't much to tell I'm quite satisfied with my chore she said looking up with smiles shining through the tears till her face resembled a rose in a sun shower. Many daughters have done well but thou excellest them all answered Anna with a kiss that completed her satisfaction. Now as it is after our usual time and we must break up, continued the president producing a basket of flowers from its hiding place I will merely say that I think we have all learned a good deal and will be able to work better next winter for I am sure we shall want to try again. It adds so much sweetness to our own lives to put even a little comfort into the hard lives of the poor. As a farewell token I sent for some real Plymouth Mayflowers and here they are a posy apiece with my love and many thanks for your help and carrying out my plan so beautifully. So the nose-gaze were bestowed, the last lively chat enjoyed, new plans suggested and goodbyes said. Then the club separated, each member going gaily away with the rosy flowers on her bosom and in it a clearer knowledge of the sad side of life, a fresh desire to see and help still more and a sweet satisfaction in the thought that each had done what she could. End of chapter one. Recording by Lorelle Anderson, Sanford, Florida. Chapter two of A Garland for Girls. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lorelle Anderson. A Garland for Girls. Chapter two, An Ivy Spray and Lady Slippers. It can't be done so I may as well give it up and get a new pair. I long for them, but I'm afraid my nice little plan for Laura will be spoiled, said Jesse Delano to herself as she shook her head over a pair of small dilapidated slippers almost past mending. While she vainly pricked her fingers over them for the last time, her mind was full of girlish hopes and fears as well as of anxieties far too serious for a lighthearted creature of 16. A year ago, the sisters had been the petted daughters of a rich man, but death and misfortune came suddenly and now they were left to face poverty alone. They had few relations and had offended the rich uncle who offered Jesse a home because she refused to be separated from her sister. Poor Laura was an invalid and no one wanted her, but Jesse would not leave her so they clung together and lived on in the humble rooms where their father died, trying to earn their bread by the only accomplishments they possessed. Laura painted well and after many disappointments was beginning to find a sale for her dainty designs and delicate flowers. Jesse had a natural gift for dancing and her former teacher, a kind-hearted French woman offered her favorite people the post of assistant teacher in her classes for children. It cost the girl a struggle to accept a place of this sort and be a humble teacher, patiently twirling stupid little boys and girls round and round over the smooth floor where she used to dance so happily when she was the pride of the class and the queen of the closing balls. But for Laura's sake, she gratefully accepted the offer, glad to add her might to their small store and to feel that she could help keep the wolf from the door. They had seemed to hear the howl of this dreaded phantom more than once during that year and looked forward to the long hard winter with an anxiety which neither would confess to the other. Laura feared to fall ill if she worked too hard and then what would become of this pretty young sister who loved her so tenderly and would not be tempted to leave her. And Jesse could do very little except rebel against their hard fate and make impracticable plans. But each worked bravely, talked cheerfully, and waited hopefully for some good fortune to befall them while doubt and pain and poverty and care made the young heart so heavy that the poor girls often fell asleep on pillows wet with secret tears. The smaller trials of life beset Jesse at this particular moment and her bright wits were trying to solve the problem how to spend her treasured $5 on slippers for herself and paints for Laura. Both were much needed and she had gone in shabby shoes to save up money for the little surprise on which she had set her heart. But now dismay fell upon her when the holes refused to be cobbled and the largest of bows would not hide the worn out toes in spite of ink and blacking lavishly applied. These are the last of my dear French slippers and I can't afford anymore. I hate cheap things but I shall have to get them for my boots are shabby and everyone has to look at my feet when I lead. Oh dear, what a horrid thing it is to be poor. And Jesse surveyed the shabby little shoes affectionately as her eyes filled with tears for the road looked very rough and steep now when she remembered how she used to dance through life as happy as a butterfly in a garden full of sunshine and flowers. Now Jess, no nonsense, no red eyes to tell tales. Go and do your errands and come in as gay as a lark or Laura will be worried. In springing up, the girl began to sing instead of sob as she stirred about her dismal little room cleaning her old gloves, mending her one white dress and wishing with a sigh of intense longing that she could afford some flowers to wear every ornament having been sold long ago. Then with a kiss and a smile to her patient sister she hurried away to get the necessary slippers and much-desired paints which Laura would not ask for though her work waited for one of them. Having been reared in luxury, poor little Jesse's taste were all of the daintiest sort and her hardest trial after Laura's feeble health was the daily sacrifice of the many comforts and elegances to which she had been accustomed. Faded gowns, cleaned gloves and mended boots cost her many a pang and the constant temptation of seeing pretty useful and unattainable things was a very hard one. Laura rarely went out and so was spared this cross. Then she was three years older, had always been delicate and lived very much in a happy world of her own. So Jesse bore her trial silently but sometimes felt very covetous and resentful to see so much pleasure, money and beauty in the world and yet have so little of it fall to her lot. I feel as if I could pick a pocket today and not mind a bit if it were a rich person's. It's a shame when Papa was always so generous that no one remembers us. If ever I'm rich again, I'll just hunt up all the poor girls I can find and give them nice shoes if nothing else, she thought. And she went along the crowded streets, pausing involuntarily at the shop windows to look with longing eyes at the treasures within. Resisting the allurements of French slippers with bows and buckles, she wisely bought a plain serviceable pair and trudged away, finding balm for her wounds in the fact that they were very cheap. More balm came when she met a young friend who joined her as she stood wistfully eyeing the pile of grapes in a window and longing to buy some for Laura. This warm-hearted schoolmate read the wish before Jesse saw her and gratified it so adroitly that the girl could accept the pretty basketball sent to her sister without feeling like a spendthrift or a beggar. It comforted her very much and the world began to look brighter after that little touch of kindness as it always does when genuine sympathy makes sunshine in shady places. At the art store, she was told that more of Laura's autumn flowers were in demand and her face was so full of innocent delight and gratitude, it quite touched the old man who sold her the paints and gave her more than her money's worth, remembering his own hard times and pitying the pretty young girl whose father he had known. So Jesse did not have to pretend very hard at being as gay as a lark when she got home and showed her treasures. Laura was so happy over the unexpected gifts that the dinner of bread and milk and grapes was quite a picnic, and Jesse found a smile on her face when she went to dress for her party. It was only a child's party at the house of one of Mademoiselle's pupils, and Jesse was merely invited to help the little people through their dancing. She did not like to go in this way as she was sure to meet familiar faces there, full of the pity, curiosity, or indifference so hard for a girl to bear. But Mademoiselle asked it as a favor and Jesse was grateful. So she went, expecting no pleasure and certain of much weariness, if not annoyance. When she was ready, and it did not take long to slip on the white woolen dress, brush out the curly dark hair and fold up slippers and gloves, she stood before her glass looking at herself, quite conscious that she was very pretty with her large eyes, blooming cheeks, and the lofty little air which nothing could change. She was also painfully conscious that her dress was neither fresh nor becoming without a bit of ribbon or a nod of flowers to give it the touch of color it needed. She had an artistic eye and used to delight in ordering charming costumes for herself in the happy days when all her wishes were granted as if fairies still lived. She tossed over her very small store of ribbons in vain. Everything had been worn till neither beauty nor freshness remained. Oh dear, where can I find something to make me look less like a nun and a very shabby one too, she said, longing for the pink corals she sold to Pellora's doctor's bill. The sound of a soft tap, tap, tap startled her and she ran to open the door. No one was there but Laura, fast to sleep on the sofa. Tap, tap, tap went the invisible hand and as the sound seemed to come from the window, Jesse glanced that way thinking her tame dove had come to be fed. Neither hungry dove nor bold sparrow appeared, only a spray of Japanese ivy waving in the wind. A very pretty spray it was covered with tiny crimson leaves and it tapped impatiently as if it answered her question by saying, here's a garland for you, come and take it. Jesse's quick eye was caught at once by the fine color and running to the window she looked out as eagerly as if a new idea had come into her head. It was a dull November day and the prospect of sheds, ash barrels and old brooms was a gloomy one but the whole back of the house glowed with the red tendrils of the hardy vine that clung to and covered the dingy bricks with a royal mantle as if eager to cheer the eyes and hearts of all who looked. It preached a little sermon of courage, aspiration and content to those who had the skill to read it and bade them see how springing from the scanty soil of that backyard full of the commonest objects, the humblest work, it said its little creepers in the cracks of the stone and struggled up to find the sun in air till it grew strong and beautiful making the blank wall green in summer, glorious in autumn and a refuge in winter when it welcomed the sparrows to the shelter of its branches where the sun lay warmest. Jesse loved this beautiful neighbor and had enjoyed it all that summer, the first she had ever spent in the hot city. She felt the grace its greenness gave to all it touched and half unconsciously imitated it in trying to be brave and bright as she also climbed up from the dismal place where she seemed shut away from everything lovely till she was beginning to discover that the blue sky was overall, the sun still shone for her and heaven's fresh air kissed her cheeks as kindly as ever. Many a night she had leaned from the high window when Laura was asleep, dreaming innocent dreams, living over her short past or trying to look in the future bravely and trustfully. The little vine had felt warmer drops and rain or dew fall on it when things went badly, had heard whispered prayers when the lonely child asked the father of the fatherless for help and comfort, had peeped in to see her sleeping peacefully when the hard hour was over and been the first to greet her with a tap on the window pane as she woke full of new hope in the morning. It seemed to know all her moods and troubles to be her friend and confidant and now came with help like a fairy godmother when our Cinderella wanted to be fine for the little ball. Just the thing, why didn't I think of it? So bright and delicate and becoming, it will last better than flowers and no one can think I'm extravagant since it costs nothing. As she spoke, Jesse was gathering long sprays of the rosy vine with its glossy leaves so beautifully shaded that it was evident Jack Frost had done his best for her. Going to her glass, she fastened a wreath of the smallest leaves about her head, set a cluster of larger ones in her bosom and then surveyed herself with girlish pleasure as well as she might for the effect of the simple decoration was charming. Quite satisfied now, she tied on her cloud and slipped away without waking Laura, little dreaming what good fortune the ivy spray was to bring to them both. She found the children prancing with impatience to begin their ballet, much excited by the music, gaslight and gay dresses which made it seem like a truly ball. All welcome, Jesse. And she soon forgot the cheap slippers, mended gloves and old dress as she gaily led her troop through the pretty dance with so much grace and skill that the admiring mamas who lined the walls declared it was the sweetest thing they ever saw. Who is that little person? Asked one of the few gentlemen who hovered about the doorways. His hostess told Jesse's story in a few words and was surprised to hear him say in a satisfied tone. I'm glad she is poor. I want your head. And now there is some chance of getting it. My dear Mr. Vane, what do you mean? Asked the lady, laughing. I came to steady young faces. I want one for a picture and that little girl with the red leaves is charming. Please present me. No use. You may ask for her hand by and by if you like but not for her head. She is very proud and would never consent to sit as a model, I'm sure. I think I can manage it if you will kindly give me a start. Very well. The children are just going down to supper and Miss Delano will rest. You can make your bold proposal now if you dare. A moment later, as she stood watching the little ones troop away, Jesse found herself bowing to the tall gentleman who begged to know what he could bring her with as much interest as if she had been the finest lady in the room. Of course she chose ice cream and slipped into a corner to rest her tired feet, preferring the deserted parlor to the noisy dining room, not being quite sure where she belonged now. Mr. Vane brought her a salver full of the dainty's girl's best love and drawing up a table began to eat and talk in such a simple, comfortable way that Jesse could not feel shy but was soon quiet at her ease. She knew that he was a famous artist and longed to tell him about poor Laura who admired his pictures so much and would have enjoyed every moment of this chance interview. He was not a very young man nor a handsome one but he had a genial face and the friendly manners which are so charming. And in 10 minutes Jesse was chatting freely quite unconscious that the artist was studying her in a mirror all the while. They naturally talked of the children and after praising the pretty dance Mr. Vane quietly added, I've been trying to find a face among them for a picture I'm doing but the little dears are all too young and I must look elsewhere for a model for my wood nymph. Our model's hard to find, asked Jesse, eating her ice with the relish of a girl who does not often taste it. What I want is very hard to find. I can get plenty of beggar girls but this must be a refined face, young and blooming but with poetry in it and that does not come without a different training from any of my usual models get. It will be difficult to suit me for I'm in a hurry and don't know where to look which last sentence was not quite true for the long glass showed him exactly what he wanted. I helped Madame Moselle with her classes and she has pupils of all ages. Perhaps you could find someone there. Jesse looked so interested that the artist felt that he had begun well and ventured a step further as he passed the cake basket for the third time. You are very kind but the trouble there is that I fear none of the young ladies with consent to sit for me if I dared to ask them. I will confide to you that I have seen a head which quite suits me but I fear I cannot get it. Give me your advice please. Should you think this pretty creature would be offended if I made the request most respectfully? No indeed, I should think she would be proud to help with one of your pictures, sir. My sister thinks they are very lovely and we kept one of them when we had to sell all the rest, said Jesse in her eager Frank way. That was a beautiful compliment and I am proud of it. Please tell her so with my thanks, which was it. The woman's head, the sad sweet one people call a Madonna. We call it mother and love it very much for Laura says it is like our mother. I never saw her but my sister remembers the dear face very well. Jesse's eyes dropped as if tears were near and Mr. Vane said in a voice which showed he understood and shared her feeling. I am very glad that anything of mine has been a comfort to you. I thought of my own mother when I painted that picture years ago so you see you read it truly and gave it the right name. Now about the other head. You think I may venture to propose the idea to its owner, do you? Why not, sir? She would be very silly to refuse I would think. Then you wouldn't be offended if asked to sit in this way? Oh no, I've sat for Laura many a time and she says I make a very good model but then she only paints simple little things that I am fit for. That is just what I want to do. Would you mind asking the young lady for me? She's just behind you. Jesse turned with a start wondering who had come in but all she saw was her own curious face in the mirror and Mr. Vane smiling one above it. Do you mean me? She cried so surprised and pleased and half ashamed that she could only blush and laugh and look prettier than ever. Indeed I do. Mrs. Murray thought the request would annoy you but I fancied you would grant it. You wore such a graceful little garland and seemed so interested in the pictures here. It is only a bit of ivy but so pretty I wanted to wear it as I had nothing else, said the girl. Glad that her simple ornament found favor in such eyes. It is most artistic and caught my eye at once. I said to myself that is the head I want and I must secure it if possible. Can I ask Mr. Vane, smiling persuasively as he saw what a frank and artless young person he had to deal with. With pleasure if Laura doesn't mind, I'll ask her and if she is willing I shall be very proud to have even my wreath in a famous picture. Answered Jesse, so full of innocent delight at being thus honored that it was a pretty sight to see. A thousand thanks. Now I can exult over Mrs. Murray and get my palette ready. When can we begin? As your sister is an invalid and cannot come to my studio with you, perhaps you will allow me to make my sketch at your own house, said Mr. Vane, as pleased with his success as only a perplexed artist to be. Did Mrs. Murray tell you about us? Asked Jesse quickly as her smiles faded away and the proud look came into her face for she was sure their misfortunes were known since he spoke of poor Laura's health. A little began the new friend with a sympathetic glance. I know models are paid for sitting. Did you wish to do it with me because I'm poor? Asked Jesse with an irrepressible frown and a glance at the thrice clean dress and the neatly mended gloves. Mr. Vane knew what thorn pricked the sensitive little girl and answered in his friendliest tone. I never thought of such a thing. I wanted you to help me because I am poor in what artists so much need, real grace and beauty. I hoped you would allow me to give your sister a copy of the sketch as a token of my gratitude for your great kindness. The frown vanished and the smile returned as the soft dancer turned away Jesse's wrath and made her hasten to say penitently. I was very rude, but I haven't learned to be humble yet and often forget that I am poor. Please come to us anytime. Laura will enjoy seeing you work and be delighted with anything you give her. So shall I, though I don't deserve it. I won't punish you by painting the frown that frightened me just now but do my best to keep the happy face and so heap coals of fire on your head. They won't burn any more than the pretty red leaves that brought me this good fortune, answered the artist, seeing that his piece was made. I'm so glad I wore them and as if trying to make amends for her little flash of temper, Jesse told him about the ivy and how she loved it, unconsciously betraying more of her pathetic little story than she knew and increasing her hearer's interest in his new model. The children came back in riotous spirits and Jesse was called to lead the rebels again but now her heart was as light as her heels for she had something pleasant to think of, a hope of help for Laura and the memory of kind words to make hard duties easier. Mr. Vane soon slipped away, promising to come home the next day and at eight o'clock, Jesse ran home to tell her sister the good news and to press the little wreath which had served her so well. With the sanguine spirit of girlhood, she felt sure that something delightful would happen and built fine castles in the air for her sister with a small corner for herself where she could watch Laura bloom into a healthy young woman and a great artist. The desire of Jesse's heart was to earn enough money to enable them to spend a month or two at the seashore when summer came as that was the surest cure for Laura's weak nerves and muscles. She had cherished the wild idea of being a ballet girl as dancing was her delight but everyone frowned upon that plan and her own refined nature told her that it was not the life for a young girl. Mr. Vane's request for her head suggested a splendid hope and after getting angry with him for hinting at her being a model, she suddenly decided to try it with the charming inconsistency of her sex. The more she thought of it, the better she liked the idea and resolved to ask her new friend all about it, fondly hoping that much money could be made in this way. She said nothing to her sister but while she sat patiently next to Mr. Vane when he came next day, she asked many questions and though somewhat discouraged by his replies, confided to him her hopes and begged his advice. Being a wise man as well as a good and kindly one, he saw at once that this life would not be safe for the pretty, impulsive and tenderly reared girl left so unprotected in a world full of trials and temptations so he told her it would not do except so far as she would allow him to make several studies of her head in various characters and pay for them. She consented and though much disappointed found some consolation in hoarding a part of the handsome sum so earned for the desire of her heart. The artist seemed in no haste to finish his work and for some weeks came often to the sittings in that quiet room for it grew more and more attractive to him and while he painted the younger sister's changeful face, he studied the beautiful nature of the elder and learned to love it but no one guessed that secret for a long time and Jesse was so busy racking her brain for a way to earn more money that she was as blind and deaf to much that went on before her as if she had been a wooden dummy. Suddenly when she least expected it help came and in such a delightful way that she long remembered the little episode with girlish satisfaction. One day she sat weirdly waiting till the dressing room was cleared of maids and children after the dancing class was over. A former friend came sauntering up to her saying in the tone which always nettle Jesse, you poor thing, aren't you tired to death trying to teach these stupid babies? No, I love to dance and we had new figures today. See, isn't this pretty? And Jesse, who knew her own skill and loved to display it, twirled away as lightly as if her feet were not aching with two hours of hard work. Lovely, I do wish I could learn to keep time and not jerk and bounce. Being plump is a dreadful trial, sighed fanny Fletcher as Jesse came back beaming and breathless. Perhaps I can teach you. I think of making this my profession since I must do something. Mademoiselle earns heaps of money by it, she said, sitting down to rest, resolved not to be ashamed of her work or to let fanny pity her. I wish you could teach me for I know I shall disgrace myself at the Kermas. You've heard about it, of course. So sorry you can't take apart for it's going to be great fun and very splendid. I am in the Hungarian dance since it's one of the hardest but the dress is lovely and I would be in it. Mama is the matron of it so I had my way though I know the girls don't want me and the boys make fun of me. Just see if this isn't the queerest step you ever beheld. Fanny started bravely across the wide smooth floor with a stamp, a slide and a twirl which was certainly odd but might have been lively and graceful if she had not unfortunately been a very plump, awkward girl with no more elasticity than a feather bed. Jesse found it impossible not to laugh when Fanny ended her display with a sprawl upon the floor and sat rubbing her elbows in an attitude of despair. I know that dance, it is the sardis and I can show you how it should be done. Jump up and try it with me, she said good-naturedly running to help her friend up, glad to have a partner of her own size for once. Away they went but soon stopped for Fanny could not keep step and Jesse pulled and stamped and hummed in vain. Do it alone, then I can see how it goes and manage better next time, panted the poor girl dropping down upon the velvet seat which ran round the hall. Mademoiselle had come in and watched them for a moment. She saw at once what was needed and as Mrs. Fletcher was one of her best patrons, she was glad to oblige the oldest daughter. So she went to the piano and struck up the proper air just as Jesse with one arm on her hip, the other on the shoulder of invisible partner went down the hall with a marshal stamp, a quick slide and a graceful turn in perfect time to the stirring music that made her nerves tingle and her feet fly. To and fro, round and round, with all manner of graceful gestures, intricate steps and active bounds went the happy girl, quite carried away by the music and motion of the past time she loved so much. Fanny clapped her hands with admiration and Mademoiselle cried, bien, très bien, charmant ma charlie. As she paused at last, Rosie and smiling with one hand on her heart and the other at her temple with the salute that closed the dance. I must learn it. Would you come and give me lessons at our house? I called for mod and must go now. Will you come, Jesse? I'll be glad to pay you if you don't mind. I hate to be laughed at and I know if someone would just help me alone, I should do as well as the rest for Professor Ludwig raves at us all. Fanny seemed in such a sad straight and Jesse sympathized so heartily with her that she could not refuse a request which flattered her vanity and tempted her with a prospect of some addition to the sister fund as she called her little savings. So she graciously consented and after a few laborious lessons, prospered so well that her grateful people proposed to several other unsuccessful dancers in the set to invite Jesse to the private rehearsals held in various parlors as the festival drew near. Some of these young people knew Jesse Delano, had missed the bright girl and gladly welcomed her back when after much persuasion, she agreed to go and help them with the difficult figures of this artist. Once among them, she felt in her element and trained the awkward squad so well that Professor Ludwig complimented them on their improvement at the public rehearsals and raved no more to the great delight of the timid damsels who lost their wits when the fiery little man shouted and rung his hands over their mistakes. The young gentlemen needed help also as several of them looked very much like galvanized grasshoppers in their efforts to manage long legs or awkward elbows. Jesse willingly danced with them and showed them how to move with grace and spirit and handle their partners less like dolls and more like peasant maidens with whom the martial Hungarians were supposed to be disporting themselves at the fair. Merry meetings were these and all enjoyed them as young people do, whatever is lively, dramatic and social. Everyone was full of the brilliant Hermès, which was the talk of the city and to which everyone intended to go as actor or spectator. Jesse was sadly tempted to spend three of her cherished dollars for a ticket and perhaps would have done so if there had been anyone to take care of her. Laura could not go and Mr. Vane was away. No other friend appeared and no one remembered to invite her. So she bravely hid her girlish longing and got all the pleasure out of the rehearsals that she could. At the last of these, which was the full dress affair at Fanny's house, something happened which not only tried Jesse's temper sorely, but brought her a reward for many small sacrifices. So much dancing was very hard upon her slippers. The new pair were worn out long ago and a second pair were in a dangerous condition, but Jesse hoped that they would last that evening and then she would indulge in better ones with what Fanny would pay her. She hated to take it, but her salary at Madame Waselle's was needed at home. All she could spare from other sources was sacredly kept for Laura's jaunt and only now and then did the good little girl buy some very necessary article for herself. She was learning to be humble, to love work and to be grateful for her small wages for her sister's sake. And while she hid her trials, withstood her temptations and bravely tugged away at her hard tasks, the kind Providence who teaches us the sweetness of adversity was preparing a more beautiful and helpful surprise than any she could plan or execute. That night all were much excited and great was the energy displayed as the scarlet blue and silver couples went through the rapid figures with unusual spirit and success. The brass-heeled boots stamped in perfect time, the furred caps waved, and the braided jackets glittered as the gay troops swung to and fro or marched to the barbaric music of an impromptu band. Jessie looked on with such longing in her eyes that Fanny, who was ill with a bad cold, kindly begged her to take her place as motion made her cough and putting on the red and silver cap sent her joyfully away to lead them all. The fun grew rather fast and furious toward the end and when the dance broke up, they lay in the middle of the floor a shabby little slipper burst at the side, troddened down at the heel, and utterly demoralized as to the bow with a broken buckle in it. Such a disreputable little shoe was it that no one claimed it when one of the young men held it up on the point of his sword, exclaiming, gaily, where is Cinderella? Here's her shoe, and it's quite time she had a new pair. Glass evidently doesn't wear well nowadays. They all laughed and looked about to find the shoeless foot. The girls with small feet displayed them readily. Those less blessed hid them at once, and no Cinderella appeared to claim the old slipper. Jessie turned as red as her cap and glancing imploringly at Fanny, she slipped upstairs through a convenient door and flew, knowing that in a moment, all would see that it must be hers since the other girls wore red boots as a part of their costume. Fanny understood, and though awkward and slow with her feet, she was kind-hearted and quick to spare her friend the mortification, which a poor and proud girl could not help feeling at such a moment. The unfortunate slipper was flying from hand to hand as the youths indulged in a boyish game of ball to tease the laughing girls who hastened to disclaim all knowledge of the horrid thing. Please give it to me, cried Fanny, trying to catch it and glad Jessie was safe. No, Cinderella must come and put it on. Here's the prince all ready to help her, said the finder of the shoe, holding it up. And here are lots of proud sisters ready to cut off their toes and heels if they could only get on such a small slipper, added another young Maggy-R, enjoying the fun immensely. Listen, and let me tell you something. It's Jessie Delano's and she has run away because she lost it. Don't laugh and make fun of it because it was worn out in helping us. You all know what a hard time she has had, but you don't know how good and brave and patient she is, trying to help poor Laura and to earn her living. I asked her to teach me and I shall pay her well for it because I couldn't have gone on if she hadn't. If any of you feel as grateful as I do and is sorry for her, you can show it in any kind way you please for it must be dreadful to be so poor. Fanny had spoken quickly and at the last words hid the tremble in her voice with a cough, being rather scared of what she had done on the impulse of the moment. But it was a true impulse and the generous young hearts were quick to answer it. The old slipper was respectfully handed to her with many apologies and various penitent suggestions. None were adopted just then. However, for Fanny ran off to find Jesse with her things on, waiting for a chance to slip away unseen. No persuasions would keep her to suffer and at last with many thanks she was allowed to go while Fanny returned to lay plans with her guests as they disturbed their digestions with lobster salad, ice cream and strong coffee. Feeling more than ever like Cinderella as she hurried out into the winter night leaving all the good times behind her, Jesse stood waiting for a car on the windy street corner with the ragged slippers under her arm, tears of weariness and vexation in her eyes and a resentful feeling against an unjust fate lying heavy at her heart. These glimpses of her old, gay, easy life which these rehearsals had given her made the real hardship and loneliness of her present life all the more irksome and that night she felt as if she could not bear it much longer. She longed with all a girl's love of gaiety to go to the Hermes and no one thought to invite her. She could not go alone even if she yielded to temptation and spent her own money. Laura would have to hire a carriage if she ventured to try it so it was impossible for six or seven dollars was a fortune to the poor girls now. To have been one of the happy creatures who were to take part in it, to dance on the green in a dainty costume to enjoy the music of a full band, to see and do all the delights of these two enchanting evenings would have filled Jesse's cup to overflowing. But since she might as well cry for the moon as she tried to get some comfort out of imagining it all as she rumbled home in a snowstorm and cried herself to sleep after giving Laura a cheerful account of the rehearsal emitting the catastrophe. The sun shone next morning, hope woke again and as she dressed, Jesse sung to keep her heart up still trusting that someone would remember her before the day was over. As she opened her windows, the sparrows welcomed her with shrill chirpings and the sun turned the snow covered vine to a glittering network, very beautiful to see as it hung like a veil of lace over the dingy wall. Jesse smiled as she saw it while taking a long breath of the keen air, feeling cheered and refreshed by these familiar comforters. Then with a brave bright glance up at the clear blue sky, she went away to the day's duties, little guessing what pleasant surprises were on their way to reward her for the little sacrifices which were teaching her strength, patience and courage for greater ones by and by. All the morning she listened eagerly for the bell, but nothing came and at two o'clock she went away to the dancing class saying to herself with a sigh, everyone is so busy, it is no wonder I'm forgotten. I shall hear about the fun in the papers and try to be contented with that. Though she never felt less like dancing, she was very patient with her little pupils and when the lesson was over, she sat resting a moment with her head still full of the glories of the cermas. Suddenly Mademoiselle came to her and in a few kind words gave her the first of the pleasant surprises by offering her a larger salary, an older class and many commendations for her skill and faithfulness. Of course she gratefully accepted the welcome offer and hurried home to tell Laura for getting her heavy heart, tired feet and disappointed hopes. At her own door, the second surprise stood waiting for her and the person of Mrs. Fletcher's servant with a large box and a note from Miss Fanny. How she ever got herself in her parcel up the long stairs, Jessie never knew. She was in such a frantic hurry to see what that vast box could contain. She startled her sister by bursting into the room breathless, flushed and beaming with the mysterious cry of scissors, quick, the scissors. Off went cords and papers, up flew the cover and with a shriek of rapture, Jessie saw the well-known Hungarian costume lying there before her. What it all meant she could not guess till she tore open the note and read these delightful words. Dear Jess, my cold is worse and the doctor won't let me go tonight. Isn't it dreadful? Our dance will be ruined unless you will take my place. I know you will to oblige us and have a lovely time. Everyone will be glad you do it so much better than I can. My dress will fit you with tux and reefs here and there and the boots won't be much too large for though I'm fat I have small feet, thank goodness. Mama will call for you at seven and bring you safely home and you must come early tomorrow and tell me all about it. In the small box you will find a little token of our gratitude to you for your kindness and helping us all so much. As soon as Jessie could get her breath and recover from this first delightful shock, she opened the dainty parcel carefully tied up with pink ribbons. It proved to be a crystal slipper, apparently full of rose buds, but under the flowers lay five and 20 shining gold dollars. A little card with these words was tucked in one corner as if with all their devices to make the offering as delicate and pretty as possible, the givers feared to offend. We return to our dear princess, the glass slipper which she lost at the ball, full of thanks and good wishes. If the kind young persons who sent the fanciful gift could have seen how it was received, their doubts would soon have been set at rest. For Jessie laughed and cried as she told the story, counted the precious coins and filled the pretty shoe with water that the buds might keep fresh for Laura. Then, while the needles flew and the gay garments were fitted, the happy voices talked and the sisters rejoiced together over this unexpected pleasure as only loving girls could do. The sweetest part of all the splendid surprise is that they remembered me just at the busiest time and thanked me in such a lovely way. I shall keep that glass slipper all my life if I can to remind me not to despair for just when everything seemed darkest all this good luck came, said Jessie, with ecstatic skips as she clanked the brass heels of her boots and thought of the proud moment when she would join in this artist before all Boston. Gentle Laura rejoiced and sympathized heartily, sewed like a busy bee and sent her happy sister away at seven o'clock with her sweetest smile, never letting her suspect what tender hopes and fears were hidden in her own heart, what longing and disappointment made her days doubly sad and lonely or how very poor a consolation all the glories of the Hermes would be for the loss of a friend who had grown very near and dear to her. No need to tell the raptures of that evening to little Jessie, who enjoyed every moment, played her part well and was brought home at midnight ready to begin all over again. So inexhaustible is youth's appetite for pleasure. To her great surprise, Laura was up and waiting to welcome her with a face so full of a new and lovely happiness that Jessie guessed at once some good fortune had come to her also. Yes, Laura's well-earned reward and beautiful surprise had arrived at last and she told it all in a few words as she held out her arms, exclaiming, he has come back, he loves me and I am so happy. Dear little sister, all your hard times are over now and you shall have a home again. So the dreams came true as they sometimes do even in this work a day world of ours when the dreamers strive as well as hope and earn their rewards. Laura had a restful summer at the seaside with a stronger arm than Jessie's to lean upon and more magical medicine to help her back to health than any mortal doctor could prescribe. Jessie danced again with a light heart for pleasure, not for pay and found the new life all the sweeter for the trials of the old one. In the autumn, there was a quiet wedding before three very happy people sailed away to Italy, the artists' heaven on earth. No roses for me, said Jessie, smiling at herself in the mirror as she fastened a spray of rosy ivy leaves in the bosom of her fresh white gown that optimal morning. I'll be true to my old friend for it helped me in my dark days and now it shall rejoice with me in my bright ones and go on teaching me to climb bravely and patiently towards the light. This is the end of chapter two of A Garland for Girls read by Lorelle Anderson, Sanford, Florida.