lady who would pay her for the work.  Then, she said, we should have a nice supper.  At last the work was finished, and I went with my mother to help carry it home, for she was weak and sickly, and even a light burden fatigued her.  The lady for whom she had made the garment was in good circumstances, and had no want unmet that money could supply.  When we came into her presence, she took the work, and, after glancing at it carelessly, said,

“‘It will do very well.’

“My mother lingered; perceiving which, the lady said, rather rudely,

“‘You want your money, I suppose.  How much does the work come to?’

“‘Two dollars,’ replied my mother.  The lady took out her purse; and, after looking through a small parcel of bills, said,

“’I haven’t the change this evening.  Call over anytime, and you shall have it.’

“And without giving my mother time more earnestly to urge her request, turned from us and left the room.  I never shall forget the night that followed.  My mother’s feelings were sensitive and independent.  She could not make known her want.  An hour after our return home, she sat weeping with her children around her, when a neighbour came in, and, learning our situation, supplied the present need.”

This relation did not make me feel any the more comfortable.  Anxiously I waited, on the next morning, the arrival of Polly.  As soon as she came I sent for her, and, handing her the money she had earned on the day before, said,

“I’m sorry I hadn’t the change for you last night, Polly.  I hope you didn’t want it very badly.”

Polly hesitated a little, and then replied,

“Well, ma’am, I did want it very much, or I wouldn’t have asked for it.  My poor daughter Hetty is sick, and I wanted to get her something nice to eat.”

“I’m very sorry,” said I, with sincere regret.  “How is Hetty this morning?”

“She isn’t so well, ma’am.  And I feel very bad about her.”

“Come up to me in half an hour, Polly,” said I.

The old woman went down-stairs.  When she appeared again, according to my desire, I had a basket for her, in which were some wine, sugar, fruit, and various little matters that I thought her daughter would relish, and told her to go at once and take them to the sick girl.  Her expressions of gratitude touched my feelings deeply.  Never since have I omitted, under any pretence, to pay the poor their wages as soon as earned.

OLD MAIDS’ CHILDREN.

“If that were my child, I’d soon break him of such airs and capers.  Only manage him right, and he’ll be as good a boy as can be found anywhere.”

“Very few people appear to have any right government over their children.”

“Very few.  Here is my sister; a sensible woman enough, and one would think the very person to raise, in order and obedience, a family of eight children.  But she doesn’t manage them rightly; and, what is remarkable, is exceedingly sensitive, and won’t take kindly the slightest hint from me on the subject.  If I say to her, ’If that were my child, Sarah, I would do so and so,’ she will be almost sure to retort something about old maids’ children.”