Griggs courier. (Cooperstown, Griggs Co., Dak. [N.D.]) 1885-1902, 1902-04-17


luxuries to music lovers" she agreed.
And to music teachers who must
spend their money for-other things"
Eleanor added, with laugh. please
don't think I'm really unhappy because
can't afford to go, Mrs. Dale. I'm
not; I'm just croaking little. It's
such help to any one to hear good
music-especially to music teacher
and such joy! But I'm not unhappy
about it; I'm glad can do other
things. Iadon't feel bit like croaking
any more since I've seen you'll"
You dear child!" exclaimed Mrs.
Dale, warmly. She knew that. most
of the other things Eleanor did were
done for other persons, and done will
ingly and bravely. "You dear child!"
she repeated.
Eleanor pressed her hand closely. 81
must fly to my next pupil, Mrs. Dale.
May l come to see you tomorrow
perhaps late in the afternoon?" she
whispered.
The quick tears came into Amy's
mothers eyes. Eyes, dol" she said.
"Good-by, my dear!"
Eleanor sped up the street to her
next pupil, and Mrs. Dale turned to
enter the florists shop and buy the
white roses.
Eleanor is dear, good child" she
thought, $50 brave and unselfish! It
is pity she can't go to those con-
-certs. They would give her such
help, and such happiness, too! I
wish I could give her ticket to them.
Amy would be SO pleased; she
loves Eleanor. If tomorrow were
not Amy's birthday, and were not
going to get flowers for her, / should
be able to do that for Eleanor. She
would let me, because I am Amy's
mother. wonder"
She stood quite still. A pleasant
new possibility came into her mind.
She turned away from the florists
shop. In less than an hour she was
going home. past the yellow fields
and sunset-lighted trees. She had
no flowers with her, but the look in
her eyes was less sad and less lone
" for Amy.
In the last few moments of day
light she wrote little note to Eleanor.
The girl wept tears, thalf-happy, half
sad, as she read:
know, is Amy's birthday. If Amy were
here should give her something to cele-
| brate It. Amy is not here, but you are,
dear; and you are girl like Amy. and her
friend. Will you not take the gift for her.
and go and listen to the glorious music that
Nyov ynHya md NrNr o1raI&
to yourself and others? Come to see me
soon. and believe me, your warm friend,
AMY SPENCER DALE.
Slipped into the note, Eleanor found
q ticket to the Beethoven society con-
certs. Amy's mother had sent it very
happily, but after it had gone she sat
alone in the gathering twilight, wish
ing that she had just one flower to
take on the next day to Amy's grave.
"Amy would have liked me to do that, q,
she thought, ''but still-on her first
birthday
She did not finish the sentence, for
just at that moment little Marjorie
Williams, who lived next door, came
running in.
go, Mrs. Dale . she cried, "I've been
to the woods with father, and I've
drought you some fowers!" She ran
up to Mrs. Dale, and dropped into her
arms great mass of glowing golden
rod and blue autumn daisies. Then
she kissed her and danced away home.
Mrs. Dale gathered the go1denrod
and daisies in her arms, and pressed
her cheek softly against them. The
next morning she took them and laid
them on Amy's grave. Strangely, her
heart felt lighter than it had felt since
Amy died. s5;3
She did not know why, but when
Eleanor came, later. in the day, and
kissed her again and again, and
thanked her with wet eyes for the gift,
she began to know. Never after did
she cover Amy's grave with costly,
quick-fading flowers:
Instead, at Christmas and at Easter
and on Amy's birthday, she did some
lovely kindness for some other girl
for Amy's sake. Sometimes it was
small, sometimes it was large; but al
ways it was something that made the
! girl happier and better, and conse-
quently more valuable to the world
Youths Companion.
4~~r I 4