The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-02-15
Dur BOYS AND GIRLS.
Dora's Small Deed.

Truth in them" snapped Dora Adams,
as abe threw paper on the floor.
Her sister Alice looked up from her
work In surpri'e.
NOW what's the matter, Dora2
You are always flying into tantrums
over something or other" she said
calmly.
"It's enough to make one have tan
trums to read such nonsense as there is in
that paper, all about girl who spoke a
gentle word to desperate man, and
made q saint of him on short notice.
think it is downright silly to publish
such things, when we all know they
never really happen" said Dora impa-
tiently.
"How do you know they never hap
penn"
"Why, from experience and observa-
ton, of couree. Haven't l been tying
10 make sunbeam of myself for the
last six months, with a view TO reform.
ing some wicked person or persons,
and what has it all amounted TOP Moth
iug-absolutely nothing! I've smiled
till the smile has set on my face
like jelly in mould and have cultivar ed
a soft and musical voice till can't talk
naturally if try, and not one hardened
or hopeless sinner is the better for it,
so far as know" and Dora's voice had
a little touch of pathos in it.
Alice sewed on in silence for awhile.
"I 1t does seem discouraging, the way
one seems 10 fail in her efforts to do
good; but, l suppose it will all turn
right after awhile. We can only do our
best to help those who need it, and try
TO be good and true ourselves. The
reward, if there is any, more than that
which comes from clear conscience,
will come when the Master is ready
she said 'thoughtfuly.
The little cloud lifted from Dora's
face, leaving it bright as usual.
You are right, Alice. The trouble
with me is that I expect kind OF
Aladdin and his wonderful lamp per-
Torrance all the while. If l plant a
seed of kindness to-day, want whole
forest of trees to spring from it and be
in their prime tomorrow. L never did
have patience about waiting for things.
Now don't, please--don't repeat that
worn-out old All things come to him
who waits or words to that eff, ct. /
know it--nO, l don't either, but know
people please themselves by saying So"
Silence again, while Dora looked out
of the window down the bleak aud b lr-
rem street, where the trees bereft
Of foliage were shivering in the cold
wind.
"There comes the washerwoman with
our clothes. Ny how I'd hate such
work. And there's her daughter Hetty
with her. What an awkward, lubberly
girl she's growing to be. What has the
poor wretch to look forward to? The
little schooling she gets will only make
her dissatisfied with her surroundings
without lifting her above them. Well
I'm thankful wasn't born black, al
least" and Dora gave long, deep sigh
Probably she is just as happy as we
are, after fashion, but it wouldn't hurt
as to bestow smiles and kind words
upon her, to help brighten things lit
tie for her." Alice said quietly.
"Ohl she'd rather have g ny ribbons
or discarded fnery than anything else.
She is only an overgrown child, with 6
child's love for bright colors and goot
things to eat. Poor thingi 1t isn't tC
be wondered at, though, when one
thinks OF her ance stors. l wish | knew
how to help her to an appreciation Of
better things, but there's no way car
think Of"
Dora lapsed into silence for some
time then, though her fingers were
busy turning over some Sunday-schoo
papers.
Presently she got up, and, taking the
papers with her, tripped down stairs.
After awhile she came back and sa
down to the sewlng-machine, ready t
do some stitching.
"pve been casting bread on thu
waters again." she said; "but never
expect to have it come back to me-"
"What nOwl Have you been vast
ing more smiles, or tuning some ones
heart to thankful lays with your melo
diOus voice?" Alice asked playfully.
Neither; somehow my sweet smiles
and silvery voice are failures in philan
thropic work, so I've come down t.
something more practical. This timt
il was simply Sundav-school and churcl
papers for Hetty. You ought to hav,
seen her grin. 1t was enough to hav'
sent reformatOry wave over the who'll
country, if there's anything in that sor
of thing. She expressed herself a
"tickled most to def, so I've made he
happy for awhile, anyhow"
Then the sisters began talking o
other things, and the little incident wa
forgotten.
Six weeks later they were sitting be
fore cheerful grate-fire, finishin
Christmas gifts.
Alice held up dainty embroidere
dolly and eyed it critically.
"How l wish had plenty of money
1t seems mean to give such tacky thing
to Aunt Eleanor, when she makes N
such handsome presents. always fe,
poor as church mouse from the fir
day of December till Christmas, bl
this year it is worse than usual" 81
said.
81 feel like pauper, myself.
want to do 80 many nice things for pc
ple, and can do 80 few. And this wi
ter there are so many poor folks wi
need help, too. Oh, dearl how drea
full it must be, to be really hungry
cold, and without money. L believe
should just go off and lie down and d.