The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1897-10-23

had duty to perform, thought Miss
Cyrilla.
II wish you would go to church
and Sunday school and learn the
principles of our Christian religion"
she said, coldly and stifHy, although
her heart yearned over him, a poor
heathen-and almost cannibal!
"Chinaman 'ligion no samee Nell
can 'ligion. Sam Lee no likee Nell
can 'ligion," he said, and walked
away.
IL shall never win him." thought
Miss Cyrilla, despairingly. He
turned back suddenly. "You 'ligion
makee good" he said.
Miss Cyrilla's face flushed with
qualification; she had received many
tributes to her Christian graces, but
never one that moved her like this.
And she felt that she had done very
little to deserve it.
Mary Olive Lad come to the door,
and she gazed at the china cat, mirth
and dismay struggling in her face.
She was working upon a crazy-quilt
for the church fair, and she had
thrown it over her shoulder-tiny bits
of brilliant-hue silk sewed together
at random.
The Chinaman's stolidity vanished
utterly at sight of it. He stretched
firth his yellow fingers and touched
it caressingly.
"Melican shawl muchee fne!" he
said, enthusiastically.
"Show Mr.-Mr. Lee the lining"
said Miss Cyrilla, graciously. And
Mary Olive displayed the under side,
OF crimson silk, warm and lustrous.
Sam Lees long. soft eyes actually
glowed and narrowed generously,
Miss Cyrilla was afraid. She re-
msmbered it afterwards.
Mary Olive went, few days later,
to make her annual visit to Aunt
Polly Lovett, at Dingletown. She
said that, as the preserving was off
their minds, and her crazy-quilt done,
while the church fair was postponed
until the middle of October, it seemed
just the right time to take for her
visit. Aunt Polly was apt to be
rheumatic, and needed to be cheered
up when the fall rains came on.
Miss Cyrilla didn't foresee, OF
course, that Viola's mother would
fall down stairs and Viola be obliged
to go home to take care OF her, and
that the very day she went, Parson
Doulton, her old minister. and his
wife, would come to dine with her.
1t happened that there was very little
to eat in the house, and Miss Cyrilla
was sadly lacking in culinary gifts;
in North Jericho people shook their
heads mournfully over her lack of
faculty"
In her extremity Miss Cyrilla called
to Sam Lee over their mutual garden
fence. Would he kill chicken for
her? Sam Lee would, and would
also cookie" the chicken. Let Miss
Cyrilla only leave her kitchen to him
aud see how fine a dinner he would
cook and servel
Miss Cyrilla hesitated only a mo-
ment; her need was SO great that the
offer seemed providential. She sat
in her parlor and entertained her Wis
itors, and heard only faint echoes of
Sam Lees valiant deeds in the
kitchen. She sat at her table, at
least outwardly composed, and ate of
as dainty a meal as was ever served
there.
"Such treasures, these Chinese SER
wants" said the minister's wife, who
had come from the far West and was
not surprised when Sam Lee waited
at table, swift-footed, noiseless,
alert.
And amenable to the influences of
Christianity, 1 fnd," said the old
minister, hopefully.
But Miss Cyrilla remembered Fan
ny, and she looked at the Chinaman
and sighed.
She sighed still more heavily, she
even wept distractedly that night,
after both her guests and Sam Lee
had departed. She had been think
ing gratefully of Sam Lees services;
she wished that she could have real
lied more fully how benefcent and
how capable being he was, for then
she might have had a mind wholly
at ease, and she might have remem-
bered to inquire after Elias Robin
sons son, who was preaching some
where in California, and she might
have remembered to show Mary
Olives silk bed-quilt to the minister's
wife. She arose from her chair at
this thought, and went into the little
sewing-room which opened from the
dining room. on the lounge there