New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1884-12-03
ALAN's THREE PENNIES.

OC SHCCiy, Oc CHccIy-uluI1u lcI JOuI
John Macaulay.
ALAN'S THREE PENNIES.
Regularly every morning, when the
weather permitted, little Alan, accom-
panied by his nurse, took his walk in
the park, holding clasped in his chubby
hand three pennies, which his kind
mamma never failed to give him. and
which he always spent in the same
manner.
One penny was for cake, one for .
glass of lemonade, sold by an old man
just within the participates, the other
for a poor lame beggar, who daily
stood in the street asking aims.
One morning, however, his mamma,
not having any pence, gave him a
shilling to change for her.
ooh, mammal Alan cried, his little
face lighting up with Joy, '.give me
this shilling; it will last four days. I
will put it in my little red purse. DO,
please?''
''Very we'll, dear, but don't lose it. "
Alan, thanking his mother, took his
nurse hand and went out.
Instead of playing as usual, Alan sat
quietly on seat holding tightly in his
hand tAA little purge
CHOW, Master Alan, it is time for
you to buy your cake Louisa said at
length.
,''But don't want one this morning,
thnnk yOD-'' Alan answered:
stNot want your cAkep Louise
echoed in establishment. care YOU
illPn
'sNo, but l am not hungry
Presently small tinkling bell fell on
his ears, and the lemonade man ap.
preached, lowering near Alan, as he
was one of his most regular customers.
Alan turned his head away, seeming
ly absorbed in watching an Italian boY,
standing near with board filled with
plaster images.
master Alan,'' Louise whispered,
''aren't you thirsty? Don't you want
your lemonade?n
'NO, because have not eaten, I do
not want to drink decidedly.
He breathed more freely when the
man passed on, afraid, in spite of him
self, he might be tempted to change
his piece.
On quitting the park he passed the
beggar by, unnoticed for the first time
since he could remember.
Arriving at his home, he fastened to
the kitchen, and asked for some bread,
which he ate with great appetite, feel
ing very hungry.
The next day his shilling still rested
whole in his little red purse; he went as
usual with Louise to the park and
play d joyfully about, being less fear
full OF losing his money.
Presently, tired out, he sat down on
the seat beside his nurse, and calmly
drew from his pocket piece of bread
he had provided himself with before
starting.
''What!'' Louise cried in astonish-
ment. ''You have brought bread from
the house?''
Eyes; I do nts like cakes now. am
tired of them"
'sNor lemonadep''
mo, I am not thirsty
"What strange boy you are! All,
| see what it is; you wish to economic.
is it to buy a castle?'
Alan colored, but did not answer.
When they were leaving the park he
made thousand excuses to 90 out by.
another gate, 80 asnot to pass the lame
man.
Louise, nothing 10th, compiled with
his wish. but in doing SO they passed
by fountain where several children
were drinking.
''Louise, cannot / drink there? lam
so thirsty Alan asked eagerly.
The maid stared at him aghast.
Whatever next! You will not buy
lemonade, and you would drink at a
fountain? I will not allow it; you will
wait until you arrive home
These little stratagems to keep his
shilling whole, lasted four days, and on
the fifth his mamma gave him his usual
three pennies.
'.Here, Alan she said smilingly,
'.your shilling was only to last four
days, so it is time you had some more
money!
The child took the offered pence in
silence; he would not tell his mother
the silver piece lay in his purse.
He went for his morning walk, and
ate the dry bread he always brought in
lis pocket now; but as they returned
Louise dragged him reluctantly to.
wards the gate where the old beggar
stood.
.'You never give anything to your
poor lame beggar now. See how pitt
fully he holds out his hand.
81 have only my shilling, which I do
not wish to change
"Bnt the money your mamma gave
you this morning ?"
81 wish to keep it,
"Oh, the naughty little miser! You
don't know how ugly it is to be so ava
ricious!''
But | am not miser.
Eyes, you are. Since you have had
that shilling you have given nothing to
the lame beggar; you pass him by
llnnoticed. You will become hard
hearted, and when you die you will not
60 to heaven-no miser ever does.
Alan hung his head in shame.
As they passed through narrow
street little girl, poorly dressed, came
out Of q dairy, carrying small Jug Of
milk.
Whether from giddiness or accident,
the child slipped, and fell almost at.
Alan s feet; the jug broke in a thou
sand fragments, the milk running in 8.
white stream over the pavement.
Louise raised her; she was Crying,
&