Smyrna times., 1882-02-01
Mrs. Dean. "But intend to keep that

MIS-. Deah but lntend to keep that
money for myself, Mrs Graham"
He that giveth to the poor lendcth to
the Lord" softly spoke Mrs Graham.
Yes, yes-I knowr' said Mrs Dean.
" But nobody interprets the Bible literally,
nowadays"
Mrs Graham took her departure. ac-
knowledging within herself that her er-
rand was II 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 fifty dollar
bill had taken to itself legs, and was run
nlng away from crowd of pursuers, her
self among the number.
When she walked up, reused by the
noise Of coal being poured upon the stove,
candle was burning, and Mr.. Dean was
laughing at her.
"Why, Betsy" said he, 81 thought
you never were going to wake again
Here you sat with the fire dead out, and
Eve had to kindle it up again.
Bless mer' said Mrs Dean. q must
have been asleep quite while But
as she started up and saw that the old
wall pocket opposite was empty-"wh
il that old number of the Clinkerville
! Clarion ?"
"It was last weeks paper" said Mr..
Dean, calmly. We had both of us read
it, SO just took it to kindle the fire"
You burned it up?"
Yes" said Mr.. Dean q burned it up.
Why shouldn't I?'
For half an hour Mrs Dean sat silent.
and never spoke word. Her first utter
ance was:
It's the Lords judgment upon mel"
Mrs. Dean was resolute woman, full
of character. She went to her table
drawer, took out a sheet of paper, and
wrote to DIR. Bridg1nan, inclosing a dollar
toward lame Dick Bodley's cart and horse.
She sent another dollar to Mrs Graham
for the poor little O'Haras, and promised
to 6Onate barrel of russets, a 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.
3" can't lend you ten dollars my dear =
she said, because ! haven'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 is Il nice spare roam, and
it's aH eightE of Il mile nearer than Mrs
Swipes's TO the district school,"
"Oh, how very, very good you are =
SAID Helen, her eyes swimming with CRATE
ful tears
GOOD y cried Mrs. Dean, Pm Just
beginning to see what 4clfish, greedy
creature Pve been all my life. But you're
welcome, my dear, and your board shall
not cost you cent
She opened her parlor, shook out the
curtains, and built fire in the air tight
wood stove.
" Dean likes the parlor,n said She, 'be.
cause it has such nice south windows. and
| | don't coo yybU Ura cbOnIJn'r o,,;,,,
She baked fresh batch of ginger bread
and sent loaf to old Mrs Nudge; she
took out a basket Of hickory nuts fol
poor little Harry Jones, who was trying
to crack dried up pignuts on the stone by
the roadside; she renewed her subscrip
tiOn to the church charities
:" | can't be very liberal she said; ''but
l am determined to do what can"
That's right, nay dear-thats right :
said her husband We shall be pros
porous, never lean. I'm aWt4llY sorry
about burning up your fifty dollar bill
but, if it's going to open your heart like
tAis, it's the best thing that could have
, happened to US"
Mrs. Dean was sweeping out the kitchen
She looked around with smile as she
moved the wide-leaVed table which alway.
stood under the wall pocket, and tool
down the pocket itself, rude structure
of splints, lined with red cambria, anC
tied with cords and tassels Of red worstsd
for 70 duet it out
: YES" said she. /. an afraid ! wa
} getting to be a little miserly, and-why
what is this?''
Mr.. Dean stopped and picked up a slil
, of crumpled, dark green paper, which haC
t fallen out from the wall pocket as his wifi,
t turned it upside down, and tapped he
: tingef nsAiast il to remove all the possible
dust
Its the fifty dollar bill :" said he
with mouth and eyes opening in unison
D "It must have slipped down from tn
folds of the newspaper and lodged here.
= "The Lord has sent it back to U.S." sal,
/ Mrs. Dean, reverently, "and He has sent
lesson, wise and mereiful, with it,"
"Well," said Mr.. Dean, after mOmen
or two of silence, there's a lesson il
, almost everything He does, if we did bu
D know IT,"
And all the theOlogians in the worl,
/ could not have improved upon the faitl
( of this simple, unlettered old farmer.