The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1890-05-22
THE BUrroN-HoLE MAKER.

OI LID rance roses.
Dress makers are quite apt to be latC
about sending their work home, espe
clally at this season of the year, when
car and go after it yourself?' her mother
replied.
In few moments the young girl had
put on her wrap, and was at the end OF
the street, signaling an uptown car.
Il called for my dress, Miss Wiswall, 4"
Cathie said, as she went into the little,
plalnly-furnished room which Miss Wis
wall called her reception parlOr.
Il am very sorry, Miss Cathie, but the
dress is not quite finished Our button
hole maker has had headache to-day,
and could not turn off her usual number
of button-holes."
But must have it. l am going out
to five o'clock tea, and / wish to wear
lit"
The dressmaker opened the door into
the sitting room, where a number of
Igirls were plying their needles as fast as
they could. Cathie caught sight of
pale-faced girl, sitting on a low chair;
and when Miss Wiswall stepped up to
her, and turning around to answer the
lquestion about the dress waist she held
IN her hand, the young visitor noticed
II am sorry, Miss Wiswall," she spoke
in pitiful tone of voice. give worked
as fast as l could, but my head aches so
hard that l can't see to put in the
stitches, and you know the button-holes
have to be done very particular"
How many more are there to do?'
asked the dressmaker.
"Only three"
well, perhaps the young lady can
wait. Could you wait, miss?'' asked the
woman, as she stepped back into the re-
ception room.
How long will it take to finish those
button-holes?'
"a half-hour, think, won't it, Miss
Ruth?'
replied.
81 will wait for the dress, as must
have it,
What beautiful girl, thought Ruth
Armsby, as she looked in the direction
OF the speaker; such red cheeks, just ex-
actly like the roses, and the happiest
kind of face. But no wonder, she
doesn't have to make buttOn-holes for a
| living.
The door between the two rooms was
closed, and Cathie Raymond was left
alone.
"What a cheerless place this is!r she
said to herself, looking about the room.
II shall have the blues if | have to sit
here whole half-hour I'll run around
to the avenue and see Grace WadswOrth
while my dress is being finished"
Grace was out, so Cathie went into a
store and looked over the array of fancy
articles
When she came back the dress was fin
lshed, and she was very glad to think she
could wear it to Helen Wrights five
O'Clock tea.
$50 many pretty girls together in one
roomm Helen Wright's Aunt Augusta
exclaimed an hour later.
1t was really sight worth seeing. The
five o'clock tea was great success, and
Cathie Raymond went home full of en-
thusiasm over the satisfactory way Helen
had managed everything.
She was obliged to sit up quite late, as
there was company in the parlor that
evening, and, when she went to her
room, she was very tired. She soon fell
asleep, and dreamed about the button
hole girl.
1t seemed that she was in room full
of button-holes, whose great mouths
were open wide enough to swallow her,
and the poor hunchback girl sat in the
centre of the room trying to sew them
up. Everything was in a distressedly
tumbled up state of things, as dreams
usually are.
She woke before break of day, and re-
membered her dream. what queer
dreamn was her first thought. 'I
ought not to have insisted on having my
dress finished sOlsOOn; that poor button
hole maker had terrible headache, |
know by the looks of her face. | might
have worn my blue dress instead. l have
had it but two months But did want
so much to show the girls my new
dressr'
Cathie could not go to sleep again, as
she usually did when she woke so early.
Somehow the pitiful voice and look of
that poor buttOn-hole maker kept COM
ing before her.
After breakfast she went out for her
morning walk, and she felt so burdened
over the selfish must, which she had ex-
pressed to Miss Wiswall, that she took
the car and went up to the dressmaker's.
Good morning, Miss Cathie. l hope
you found your dress all right" were the
words she heard as she went into the re-
ception parlor
''Oh, yes, Miss Wiswall. The dress
suited me perfectly. l came to inquire
about the button-hole maker You
know she had hard headache. l feel
sorry to think did not wear the blue
dress you made me some time since in
stead of insisting on her finishing the
new one when she felt ILL.,"
well, miss, to tell the truth, she is
quite sickly, anyway. She makes the
handsOmest button holes of any one who
has ever worked for me, bnt she is sub
ject to these spells of headache. To-day
she has had such severe one that l do
not think she will be able to come down
stairs to the sewing room at all"
81 wish could do something to help
her. Miss Wiswall, don't you think
some Florida oranges would be good for
her?"
Cathie Raymond was soon standing in
the fruit store at the corner. A dozen of
the largest, best Florida oranges were
sent, with her love, to Ruth.
with her love, did you say, Miss Wis
wall?' the poor, motherless child asked,
as the package of oranges were laid on
her bed
with her love! To think that beau
tiful young girl sent her love and these
delicious oranges"
at doesn't seem as if | could do
enough for Ruth Armsby," Cathie Ray
mOnd said, two months afterwards, when
Ruth was getting over the fever. "To
think that she should have been obliged
to work those button-holes when she
was coming down with that dreadful
feverIn
"Good came out of evil though, this
time, my DEAL her mother said 'If it
had not been for those button holes we
probably would never have known Ruth
Armsby, and should not have been able
to make her life brighter and happier"
When Ruth got well she worked but
ton holes again for Miss Wiswall; but it
was not irksOme work any more, for the
friendship and sympathy of a beautiful
young girl had come into her life.
A drive now and then in Central Park,
on pleasant afternoon, only made her
fingers work faster. A basket of nour-
ishing food every few days brought
strength to her body and color to her
cheeks. The kind words and assurance
of interest in her lonely life, filled her
heart with hope and anticipation. And
true happiness filed Cathie Raymond's
heart when she remembered the Masters
beautiful words, "Inasmuch as We did it
unto one of the least of these, ye did it
unto me-"
SOMETHING WRONG.
Tf -, IL -