The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1886-09-18
MOLLIE DAVISON'S APRON.

Before an open stove in which brisk
FIRE was cracking sat pretty Mollie Da-
visor, bard at work. At her side were
her work basket and scissors: thread and
pins were scattered about. Still, the task
did not seem laborious; for smile broke
over her face from time to time, and, with
fitful intervals, she hummed gay little
tune. In her work. basket lay fragments
of lace and red ribbon, and the dainty
thing in her hands was gradually assum-
ing the proportions of an apron. Sud-
denly, the girl jumped up; and, run
ming into the adjoining room, whore an
old fashioned gilded mirror hung, she
held up the pretty trife before her, tied
the ribbons before her trim waist, and
looked at the reflection with smile
turning her head from side to side to get
the full effect. When she again took her
seat by the fire, she found Aunt Aurelia
had come in quietly, and was reading her
after-dinner paper.
"Well, Mollie," said the latter, looking
over her paper, "what are you making
now that's pretty2"
San apron" replied Mollie,-"just like
the one Edith bought at the great fair in
the city. She said she never saw another
like it. See, it's made of two hemstitched
handkerchiefs, one cut in two and plated
across the bottom, and red satin ribbon
ruy thr0uUh ha how e., l,o,,I
and tie like this. The valenciennes is
real, too. Isn't it lovely?"
"Yes," assented Aunt Aurelia, cordially:
sit is real beauty. What are you 60
ing to do with it,"
81 was going to give it to lame cousin
Sallie on her birthday, tomorrow" re-
piled Mollie.
"That's dear child" said Aunt Aure-
lia: "you couldn't do better with it,"
Soon the old lady was fast asleep in her
chair.
Mollie leaned her head on her hands,
aud gGZed into the glowing Goals, while
the early winter twilight gathered. The
freight flashed on the dainty white linen,
threw delicate shadow traceries from the
fine lace, and made the scarlet satin glow
strangely. Mollie could not keep her
eyes off the little apron, which seemed to
say, "Keep me, keep me-" And Mollie's
selfish little heart added: "Sallie is very
homely, and will not look pretty if she
has the apron. Why waste it on her?"
Not daring to trust herself in that witch
ing balf-Iight, che folded her work, light
ed the student lamp with the red shade,
and sat down in its rosy glow to read,
fully determined to send the apron in the
morning.
But next morning she found in the
postoffice an invitation to make candy
that afternoon with Janet Grey. who
lived in the great white house with pill
lars, next the church.
"What a good time to wear a pretty
apron, if only had it exclaimed Mollie.
Then she thought of the one lying in her
basket: Nobody knows it was for Sallie,
except Aunt Aurelis; and she's forgotten.
| viii keep it, and wear it. How the
girls will starer' And wear it she did.
Promptly at fifteen minutes before two
Aollie started; for Janet had written,
Come early, SOS to make lots of candy"
And by two, in spite of high wind and
slippery walking, she was standing under
the white pillars and lifting the great
brass knocker. Janet came rushing to
the door; and, hanging her things" on
the bat-raek in the front hall, she dragged
Mollie ont TO the kitchen.
"Sallie's here" buzzed Janet, much to
Mollie's discontinue. "It's her birthday,
go mother said 1 might make a party for
her. Poor Salliel che can't do half the
things we do"
Mollie felt her cheeks burn; and she
was even less happy when the lame girl
imped up to her, kissed her. and said in