The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1894-11-10

~ in charming little seat
made by crook in the great vine
which climbed over the back porch.
Patty gazed lovingly at dolly, as if
hoping that in some way dolly might
be able to suggest some way out OF
the trouble. Dolly gazed straight
before her, as if in thought too deep
for words.
"You see, dolly, the state of the
condition is this" Patty held up the
mite of forefnger of her right hand,
and jotted down with it in the palm
of her left each point to be considered.
.Here's papa hasn't sold his two last
pictures. He wanted to get some
money for 'em, dolly. Then papa
got sick. Then Mr.. Graves said we
all might come out here and live in
this cottage in the country. Then
we came. Now papa says he can't
paint pretty pictures out here, cause
the country's SO fiat there's nothing
to paint. Flat, dolly, means Just
like when Jane rolls out dough for a
pie. Now, dolly, what can me and
you dot"
Patty shook her head mournfully.
Dolly stared straight ahead harder
than ever, as if fully realizing that the
state of the condition was very serious
indeed.
All through the six years of her
life Patty had lived entirely with
grown people, mostly with only her
papa and mamma was, for such
a small lassie, comically grown up in
her ways and speech. 1t was a very
heavy burden on her poor little mind,
this of how she could help papa.
"When me and you's big, dolly, we
can do lots of things. Big folks al
ways have money, you know. Ac'-
chelly, dolly, I've seen mamma open
her pocket book and look in and say,
4 wonder how much change have
Think of that, dolly, not to know!
I've tried it lots of times. I try to
forget just how much / have. Then
l open my pocket book, and say,
@I'Il see what change l have And
it's always just the same.-my quarter
and ten cent piece and three cents.
And I knew it al! the time. But the
trouble is, mamma hasn't got enough.
Dear me, dolly, it's dreadful kind
of world when you don't have
enough money"
dolly" presently went on Patty,
"I'm going to make you grape vine
swing. Once, when was little girl,
/ went to picnic in the woods; and
it was be-youtiful. l swung in a
grape vine swing. Papa made pict-
ure of me, and sold it for great deal
of money. Dollyr'
Patty sprang up in great excite
ment, causing dolly to topple out of
her seat.
"You poor child" Very carefully
she was picked up, busted off, and
petted.
"Dolly, hear what I've got to sayl
| do believe papa would paint you in
vine swing! I'll make you look
artistic"
Patty brought bench, upon which
she climbed; and then with painstak
ing little fingers the vines which hung
above the porch were separated and
drawn this way and that in the small
girls endeavor to find swing for
her darling. 1t was hard work, for
she had to hold on with one hand
while reaching up with the other. At
length, tired and painting, she was
obliged to sit down for a few mo-
ments.
Papa came limping out on the
porch. With his usual discouraged
look, his eye swept the dull reach of
level farm land which stretched to
the sea. Its monotony was a little
broken by a grove of trees off to one
side, in which Patty and dolly had
enjoyed many a merry play. But
there was nothing, as he had often