The true northerner., 1899-06-14


Why" and her round face grew
thoughtful, they are yours, too, cause
ours will mean you now"
Irene made no reply. Instead she
took up one of the dolls and began TO
change the Turkey red Mother Hub
bard for party dress of pink cambric.
Mabel helped her, handing her the
various articles and chatting merrily.
Maude, left somewhat to herself. ad
vanced to the box of lrene's toys and
lifted the cover. The child never
dreamed that her act might be consid-
cred rude. Irene was one of them now,
and were not all things, by the law of
love which ruled that household,
''ours?" She lifted layer of paper,
and a rapturous exclamation broke
from her lips.
"Oh what a beautiful doll!" she
cried, carefully lifting out fancifully
dressed Chinese doll. Irene, think
you"
The sentence was never finished.
Irene sprang up and snatched the doll
from Maude.
Don't touch that or anything else.
They are mine"
But you have our things" Maude
replied, spiritedly. "Why shouldn't l
see these?"
Because they are mine," Irene said,
putting the doll back in the box. Il
never let anyone have my things"
Maude's cheeks were very red. Then
you needn't ever touch ours. / think
you are selfish, Irene Brown, and I'm
sorry you've come here to live, so
there!"
Irene began to cry, and Maude rushed
down to tell the story to her mother.
Mrs. Brown was much grieved and tried
to show both little girls their mistake.
Irene opened her big black eyes in won
der.
"Why, they are mine, Aunt Marie,
and my things are just for me-"
To Mabel and Maude this was a new
idea. Mabel tried to excuse Irene, but
impulsive Maude refused to overlook
her cousins conduct. There was no
quarreling; Mr.. and Mrs. Brown would
not allow that, but there was an entire
lack of the sweet spirit of generosity
and oneness which had hitherto gov
erned that home. Irene loved Leon and
would sometimes allow him to use her
toys. Again, she would snatch some
thing from him, crying: That's mine,
Leon" There was no trace of justice
in her selfishness, for she never hesi-
tated to join in the pleasure of others.
A month passed. One hot August
afternoon, when the fields were lying
all parched and brown under the fierce
rays of the sun, Baby Leon woke, cry
ing, from a brief sleep. He was fever
ish and fretful. Before night it was
evident that he was really i'll. The sim
pie remedies given him by his mother
did not relieve him, and doctor was
summoned. He shook his head grave
ly. The little girls did not care for
play. They tried TO help in various
ways, especially delighting in doing lit
tie things for Leon. Almost uncon-
sciously Irene was learning the beauty
of doing for others.
The days went by and there was no
change. On the evening of the fifth
day Irene stole softly into the room
where her aunt sat by Icons crib. The
little form was wasted, and fever had
burned the freshness from the rose
tinted face. Irene stopped and put her
hand on the tiny one that lay on Icons
breast. Slowly the golden lashes lifted
and the blue eyes looked into her face.
doe Way, Rene" Leon lisped;
Rene say mine to baby"
L.
looked into the face of her little niece.
Notwithstanding her own grief, the
mothers heart went out to the startled
child. She put out her arms and drew
Irene to her in close embrace.
us il true, Aunt Marie ?" the little
girl asked when tears had relieved her
and she could speak. Does my want
ing my own things for myself keep
Leon, and all the rest of you, from
loving me?"
Very gently Mrs. Brown tried to show
Irene that a selfish life could not be
happy one. She told her of the heaven
ly Fathers love for all, and His COM
mand that we love one another. Irene
listened in silence. A little later she
went out on the porch where Mabel and
Maude were sitting.
please, girls" she began, the GRIM
son light of the setting sun staining
her face with its glow, "please, won't
you let me say 'ours;' our little Leon
and everything? l haven't any mine
now. 1t is all ours"
Mabel and Maude were ready to for
give their cousin and assured her that
they would commence over. When they
went downstairs the next morning they
found that Leon was better. He smiled
up in their faces with something of his
old sunniness, and did not draw away
when Irene pressed many kisses upon
his lips.
Irene's lesson was we'll learned. Her
joys are not alone her own now, but
in common with those of the entire
fanify.-Detroit Free Press.
A Poser.
A small youth of some six summers