Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-10-23

and dusty bunch of daisies" ION which
Betty fixed charmed eyes), "twenty cents"
"Shoes, forty-nine cents. Stockings,
ten"
"Blue gingham frock, sixty-eight cents"
about dollar aud a half-for a recon-
structed child. Look at her."
"Poor little mite Isn't 1t a wonder
she isn't driven wildP Was ever child
so hustled and Rugged and squeezed and
choked and turned this way and that, all
in about twenty minutesp Now hurry,
hurry
1t was very easy to see that Betty had
resigned herself meekly into the hands of
her kindly captors. As, at the very last
minute, she was hoisted by a pair of strong
arms on the train, she gave little chirp OF
a laugh, which might have come from
child with a brighter life than hers had
ever been.
"a regular little Cinderella" said Janet,
as the girls exchanged delighted glances
over their new protegee. And, as Betty
jourDeyed out into the beautiful country,
no feature of the transformation was great
er than the light which had come into her
blue eyes.
Miss Susan Rudd was doing the work of
her small farmhouse in which she lived all
alone, when she heard unusual sounds not
far off.
whats all that? Well, as I'm alive,
If it amt the hull city broke loose! It's
what Neighbor Banks was tellin' of,-that
they've set apart Farmer Carter's old pas
tur' lot and the strip O. woods for a picnic
ground for them city children. A lot o.
young ones runnin' round over everything
Well, all l have to say is, they'd better
keep off my ground.
There seemed no disposition to trespass
on her; and as the morning hours wore on,
Miss Susan seated herself by a window
which commanded a view of the pasture
lot.
"Myl but they be havin' good time!"
There must have been something in the
merry voices which broke the crust of Miss
Susans GOODNESS, hardened by long years
of solitude, and brought up memories of
time when she played and shouted with
brothers and sisters. Certain it is that her
sewing lay neglected, as she watched what
was going on.
The treasure of Miss Susan's life was her
hen house, with its stock of choice poultry.
She kept jealous eye out, fearing marau-
ders. But the country visitors were kept
well within bounds, and no lawless foot
was set on her premises. Still, she was
not ill pleased, early in the afternoon, at
seeing the approach Of a small crowd Of
girls, with some little children in charge.
1--WE came o ask if you'd let the little
ones see your fowls" said Emily. "They
caught sight of some young chickens, and
are wild to get good look at them; for
the most Of them have never seen such
things before"
"Never seen young chickensm Miss
Rudd led the way, and let some Of the
broods out into the barnyard that they
might be the better seen, her heart touched
with the thought of such bare little lives.
She laughed at sight of their ecstacy, as the
pretty feathered mites ran about. As Betty
clasped her hands in delight, Miss Susan,
like every one else, was attracted by the
light in the soft blue eyes.
Here" she said, taking up one of the
yellow, fluffy young chicks, and placing it
in the child's hands.
Betty fondled it, not seeming to hear
when the word was given that 1t was time
to go. 1t was hard to take it away from
such loving handling: and, to ease the
matter, Miss Susan said, "You shall have
it when it is big enough to leave its
mother"
Who shall cay how much enjoyment was
crowded into the hours which passed be-
fore the line was formed to return to the
train. Then dismay arose. A little girl
was missing. 1t was the one with the
large blue eyes and curly hair, almost the
smallest one in the company. No one
knew even her name, except that the Cum
minis girls, who had viewed the little Gin
derella with amazement, said it was Betty.
Hasty search was made, but no blue-eyed
girl was to be found. Neighbors who had
gathered promised to be on the outlook for
the missing waif and to send her safely
home; and the train went on without her.
Miss Susan, waving her hand, gazed after
1t with pain in her heart. Through the
passing hours she had become more used
to the unwonted sounds of children's mirth,
and liked them.
81 wisht they'd come again." she sighed
to herself.
They had all behaved well,-the rag. tag
and bob-tail whom she had jealousy feared
would overrun her premises. Those in
charge had bought her whole milking for
the day, paying good price for it. The
| final winning of her hearthad come through
the warm admiration of her beloved poul-
try. 1t was with lonely feeling that she
/ NCll1 Oub W lCCu luc ucAl
"Bless my heart!"
A small, blue-ginghamed, blue-eyed girl
sat in the barn doorway, watching the
young chickens. The bits of hay caught
in the shining curls showed where she had
spent the night.
"Why,-childl Where did you drop
from? And why didn't you go back with
the rest of emp"
Betty pointed to the hay loft steps. 81
come down them, but didn't drop. Just
| stayed till the little chicky was growed, so
could have it,"
Miss Susan laughed, then very nearly
cried, as she took Betty in and gave her
her breakfast. 1t was so strange to have a
child about,-to be doing for her.
snow you shall help me feed the chick
ems; but then must write to them folks,
and let 'em know where you are, and tell
'em to meet you on to-mOrrOw's train"
The letter was written; but, long before
to-morTow's train-time, Miss Susan's heart
had failed her. Another letter went in
stead of Betty. 1t said, "If the child has
no folks that wants her, I'll keep her my
self."-Sidney DGyre, in the ChWchmGn.