The Indianapolis leader. (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1879-1890, 1881-10-29
But I intend to keep that money for my

But intend to keep that money for my
self, Mrs. Graham"
He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the
| Lord" softly spoke Mrs. Graham.
| "Y es. yes, | know" said Mrs. Dean; 'but
nobody interprets the Bible literally, now
adays."
Mrs. Graham took her departure, &C
/ knowleding within herself that her errand
was a failure and Mrs. Dean. left to herself
at last, INDUCED in nap, with the knitting
work in her lap-a nap wherein she dreamed
that the $50 bill had taken to itself legs and
was running away from the crowd of pur-
suers herself among the number.
When she walked up, reused by the noise
of coal being poured upon the stove. a
candle was burning and Mr.. Dean was
laughing at her.
why, Betsey," said he ~ thought you
never were going to wake again. Here you
sat, with the fire dead out, and I've had to
kindle it up again"
BLESS me!' said Mrs. Dean, Il must have
been asleep quite a while. But"-as she
started up she saw that the old wall-pocket
opposite was emptv---"where is that old
number of the Clinkerville ClariOnP'
1T was last weeks paper" said Mr.. Dean,
calmly. 1--WE had both of us read it, SO L
lust took it to kindle the fire.?
"You burned it up?'
Yes" Said Mr. Dean, Il burned it up;
why shouldn't I?'
For half an hour Mrs. Dean sat silent and
never spoke a word And her first utter
ance
Its the Lords judgment upon mel''
Mrs. Dean was a resolute woman, full of
character. She went to her table drawer,
took out sheet of paper and wrote to Dr.
Brdgman, inclosing a dollar toward lame
Dick Bodley's cart and horse. She sent an
other dollar to Mrs. Graham for the poor
little O'Harras, and promised to donate a
barrel of russets, bushel of potatoes and
some of her husbands cast-off clothes to cut
over for the children. And she sent for
Helen Hurst to come and see her.
II can't lend you $40, my dear" said she,
because havn't got it. But I'll tell you
what | will do. I'll let you make your
home here as long as you please. There's a
nice spare room and it's an eighth of a mile
nearer than Mrs. Swipes to the district
school,"
"Oh, how very, very good you are" said
Helen, her eyes swimming with grateful
tears.
Good" cried Mrs. Dean. Pm just be-
ginning to see what selfish, greedy creature
I've been all my life. But you're welcome,
my dear, and your board shall not cost you
a cent"
She opened her parlor, shook out the cur
tains and built fire in the air tight wood
stove.
DedH likes Tie pdTlOT, Sdlu size, De-
cause it has such nice south windows, and
don't see why we shouldn't enjoy it,"
She baked fresh batch of gingerbread,
and sent loaf to old Mrs. Nudge; she took
out basket of hickory nuts for poor little
Harry Jones, who was trying to crack dried
up pignuts on the stone by the roadside;
she renewed her subscription to the Church
charities.
Il can't be very liberal" she said: "but l
am determined to do what | can"
That's right, my dear; that's right" said
her husband. I'VE shall be prosperous,
never fear. I'm awfully sorry about burn
ing up your fifty dollar bill; but, if it's
going to open your heart like this it's the
best thing that could have happened to
u.s."
Mrs. Dean was sweeping out the kitchen.
She looked around with a smile as she
moved the wide-leaved table which always
stood under the wall-pocket, and took
down the pocket itself, rude structure of
splints, lined with red cambria and tied
with cords and tassels or red worsted. to
dust it out
Yes" she said, 81 am afraid was getting
to be little misery, and Why, what's
this?''
Mr. Dean stopped and picked up a slip of
crumpled dark-green paper, which had fall
len out from the wall-pocket as his wife
turned upside down and tapped her finger
against it to remove all possible dust.
Its the $50 bill" said he with mouth
and eyes opening in unison. 1T must have
slipped down from the folds of the news
paper and lodged here"
THE Lord has sent it hack to us. said
Mrs. Dean, reyerently, and He mas sent a
lesson, wise and merciful, with it,"
Well said Mr.. Dean, after a moment or
two of silence there's lesson in almost
everything He does, if we did but know it,
And all the theologians in the world
could not have improved upon the faith of
this simple, unlettered old farmer.