St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1886-07-22

work quilt. A pale, thin little face 1t
was, but so blithe and sunny. Per-
petuial sunshine seemed to beam from
those clear blue eyes, and radiate from
the curls of golden hair that lay tum-
bled over the pillow.
"Come in" chirped the little crea-
ture. "I'm so glad to see you. L know
who you are. You're Rue's school
friends, and you've come to make her
a call. You're real good, and Pm so
sorry she isn't in. But she'll be In
soon"
eyes, we did come to see Ruth, but
perhaps we'd better not stay" said
Isabel, awkwardly moving toward the
door.
"Oh, don't go! do stay little while.
| want to talk to you. Pm so tired
waiting for mother and Rue" And
the great blue eyes pleaded so earnest
ly that the girls drew near, fascinated
by that dear little face.
care you i'll ~ asked Gertie, gently.
"T'm never well, but | feel pretty
we'll to-day"
"Are you often sick in bed 7"
"I'm always on my lounge, or else
mother carries me. / never walked.
| can't, you know never can there
is something wrong about my splne,"
answered Berry simply.
The girls turned pale, and quick
tears of sympathy sprang to their eyes.
Impulsive Isabel bent aud kissed the
pale face.
"You poor darling !" she murmured.
"Oh, no, do very WE'LL" said Berry,
brightly. 81 have lots of good times.
Mother and Rue make great baby of
me and every body is so kind"
"What do you do to amuse yOurself?"
"Oh, | watch the clouds and the peO-
pie going by and play with Cheeps,
my cat. Cheeps is very good cOmpa-
nv, except when he's after a mouse.
Then | read little and sew some
times when the pain isn't too bad, and
| have a doll too" and the child drew
from the folds of her wrappings as for
lOrn a specimen of doll as one could
imagine. No arms, no legs, no hair,
the faintest suspicion only of nose,
and the whole wrapped in piece of
cotton cloth.
The girls had hard work to repress
their smiles, but Berry looked at the
queer bundle with loving eyes.
"You must be a good child" cried
Florence warmly.
Berry shook her sunny curls.
"NOt always. Sometimes Pm very
bad. When the pain is bad L do
dreadful things"
81 don't believe it," returned Flor
ence.
"Oh, but 1 do. Sometimes when
mother cannot take me l get mad, and
make up faces at the wall, and one day
| threw Betsey on the floor. Wasn't
that bad ?" And the blue eyes seemed
TO grow larger and larger, as if in won
der at her wrong dOings.
impossible to do otherwise ; and Berry
laughed too.
"Isn't it ridiculous for a great girl
like me to act so 2"
"DOn't you get lonely while Ruth is
at school ?" inquired Isabel.
The bright face clOuded little.
"Indeed 1 do; so lonely! And when
mothers gone too feel as if I'd like
to cry sometimes. But then L want
Rue to go to school. Rue is real smart.
Miss Downs, our teacher, said she
ought to GO to better school, so DR..
Fletcher, our old minister, gave her
permit for your school. He's on the
'mittee, you know"
doesn't Rue get tired walking so
far, or does she take the car ~ asked
Gertie.
''She doesn't take the cart costs
too much. Rue's real good" cried the
earnest little creature. "She worked
for Mrs. Day all summer, and got quite
a lot of money. | wanted her to get
new dress to wear, but what do you
think the bad thing did She went
and bought me this flannel wrapper in
stead, and now she wears that old
brown to school. 1t was one Mrs. Day
gave her. How l hate that dress, and
wasn't mad! just cried"
1t had grown darker and darker out
side while Berry chartered on, and up
the Edgerly road could be seen the
red lamps of the approaching car.
eve must go, girls" said Isabel,
hurriedly. Goodbye, you dear little
thing! Well come again sometime"
"Dear me! Must you goY | do
love to have you come, and Rue1l be
sorry not to have seen YOU"
"Give our love to Rue, and tell her
we think she's brave, smart girl"
And there was a tremble in Bellies
voice.
The girls all kissed happy Berry and
went out softly. 1t was rather quiet
ride to Garden street, and the wal k
that followed was quieter still. AS
they paused before Alice's house lsa-
bel said, "Girls, we must all promise
never to tell what we went there for
not any one, except our mothers; and
YOU don't catch me making fun of Rue
again"
"Nor me either" echoed the others,
too earnest to notice bad grammar.
"And we must fix it about that horse
car fare" suggested Alice.
"Of course" returned Isabel, warm
ly; "T'd be ashamed not to. Come to
my house after school tomorrow, and
we'll talk it over"
That same night, after supper, Isa-
bel sat in her low chair beside her
mothers dressing-rOOm fire. Mrs.
Archer, who was an invalid, sat in her
reclining chair enjoying the ruddy
blaze and crackle. Isabel had just fin
ished an account of the afternoons oc-
equations, and, with scarlet cheeks,
was telling of their visit, and the man
ner in which the owner of the little
brown dress had been used in Haw-
thOrne school.
Mrs. Archer heard her quietly, and
a little shadow of regret crept over her
expressive face. Isabel looked up anx-
iOusly as she finished her recital.
"Don't speak, mamma" she said,
quickly. al know just what you will
say. You are surprised that child of
yours should be so influenced by a
dress as to forget all the good qualities
it covered. You think l haven't been
a lady. Well, L know it, and Pm
ashamed. Don't scOld, dear, but just
tell me what to do to make Ruth hap
py."