The Monticellonian., 1899-11-24

bit" after her hard days work.
 Just as she was dreaming of a Thanksgiving long ago when she and Jim and her brothers and sisters popped corn and roasted apples before the great open fire, q loud knock caused her to jump to her feet in alarm.
 "Who on earth can be coming on such an evening?" she muttered drowsily, as she groped her way through the hall to the door.
 "Why, MT. Stanton! what has brought you up here in such rain as this!s she exclaimed in surprise Come right in. :"
 The cashier of the Newton bank glanced down at his dripping maekin- tosh and muddy boots, then at the i'm maeulate oilcloth on the hall floor.
 No, thank you, Miss Sarah" he en- swered. "I am in q great hurry. Haven't you heard the news? The dam at Watertown has broken; nearly all the place is submerged, especially the poorest quarters near the factories. The people are hocking to Newton in droves. Every hotel private house and public building is full and yet more are coming. It is pitiable to see them drenched and shivering after walking four miles in this dreadful rain. Many of them have had nothing to eat since early morning. We are trying to find shelter for them in the nearest farm houses, and thought, as you haven't much family and considerable room, you might accommodate a good num- ber."
 Aunt Sarah's eyes grew round and her jaw dropped in dismay. At any other time she would have made the poor wanderers welcome enough. But now-and. in imagination, she beheld the grooming pantry shelves, the shin ing floors and the beds with their fresh layender-scented sheets.
 "Mr. Stanton," she began, faintly, "I never hated so much to refuse any thing in all my life. It doesn't hardly look Christian, and under ordinary cir eumstanees 1 wouldn't think of refus- ing; but my cousin, that 1 haven't seen for years, is coming tomorrow. His children never have had real good Thanksgiving, and l cant think of hay
 
 here. I am dreadful sorry"
 Mir stanton was disappointed, yet he went away glad that such an unexpect- ed pleasure was coming into Aunt Sa- rah's life. He quite understood her feelings, though when he thought of the miserable unsheltered creatures in the town, he wished it might have been otherwise.
 Aunt Sarah turned from the door with a heavy heart. The brightness and warmth of the sitting-room smote her with deep sense of guilt. She tried to put the matter from her mind: but every time she looked into the glowing flames she saw d host of cold, haggard faces. Unable to bear 1t longer, she left the room on the preteNt of seeing that all was well upstairs. She passed from one to another of the neat bedrooms. Never before had the old-fashioned, high-posted beds looked so inviting She paused in deep thought, Suddenly her eyes rested upon a faded sampler she naa worked when a child. The long, uneven iettvrs in red. green and purple silk danced before her eyes. "Inasmneh as Ye have done it unto one of the least of these. My brethren. ye have done il unto Me"
 "Done it unto Me" the words echoed in her ears What if He were out in the rain hungry and cold would she have treated Him thus?
 She sank beside the bed and bur Jed her face in her hands.
 Dear Lord she sobbed. it is so hard, when it is the only pleasure I've had since mother died five long years ago. I wasn't expecting it. and it all came so sudden like, and now to have it spoiled. But for Thy sake, Lord, accept the sacrificed"
 Susie Belle," said Aunt Sarah