The Birmingham age-herald., 1911-12-10

well, anyway it was lovely thing to Jo," 1 said as the conversation pro-
 gressed.
 "I.ovely-nothing, said Nancy pooh poohing the suggestion T really dldn |
 do anything but did so want to do some- thing for her"
 1 was asking her about story that came to my ears recently-one in which she had figured as the Leading Lady, The street car was the scene of the story, and the mercury was nearer freeZ- ing point than it has been this winter.
 "Tell me about 1t, won't your I begged.
 If I must--well-alright,' said Nancy reluctantly. Tt was the very coldest morning you ever saw, and even as walked the few steps from my house 10 catch the car my ears and nose were near Iv frozen. When got in the car l hud- ded up in a corner underneath layers and layers and layers of good warm furS, and still I shivered like a cat.'
 About two corners down the street, Nancy continued, "a girl got in the car. She was thin and white and pale and she had on a summer dress and little old worn out black straw hat and a jacket so light that 1t could scarcely be called
 wrap. She was as neat as a pin and as
 cold as ice, I knew, and there l was so
 warm and comfortable and bundled up in the greatest sort of luxury. It came over me all at once that l had no right to be sitting there warm and that girl cold. sat like a dumb thing, thinking that I'd give anything to move over near her an1 ask her what she was doing out on day like that, so thinly clad, and I wanted to offer to help her, and you know l actually didn't know how to go about it!
 Nancy's eyes were blue veils of tears as
 she said this.
 "Finally when we got into town,' said she 'I got up at a certain street corner
 Co get off the car, and so did she. and as
 we got out into the crowded thorouShfare
 walked over to her and handed her my
 furs and said:
 Wont you take these, please?'
 'Then she looked at me with the sweet
 est. gentlest expression l ever saw in hu-
 man eyes, and said simply:
 "'Oh thank you so much, but I nevcl wear furs.'
 And before could stop her she was gone"
 But what could you do?' I asked. why, l could have done lots of things, said Nancy. T stood there and let hei walk out of my lfe-walk forever away from me- and I may never see her again. But you'd do the same thing if you had it to go over again, wouldn't you?"
 I asked.
 "I suppose I'd lose my opportunity just the same" said she pitifully. But if l ever see her again l shall follow her to the ends of the earth. Maybe she went L. a home that night where there wasn't any fire; where she was hungry, and where there wasn't half enough covering on her bed Poor thing
 But perhaps you wouldn't have wanted to go where she vent I suggested q would have wanted to go anywhere she was going said Nancy peremptorilg. q know she was every inch a lady. No one could express so much appreciation in one short sentence as she did unless she was the real thing and capable Of knowing the real values of life. She was the kind of person that ] should like to lSnow--to help-to be of real assistance 10, and especially at this glorious Christmas
 time. when everybody by rights ought to be happy
 If this story doesn't touch you it is be- cause I have faltered in the telling. To me it illustrates more than one truth, and one is that it isn't any easier to ac- cept than it is ito give. Wasn't it Mrs. Andrews, in one of hei short stories, who made use of the beautl- 1 rul expression that "The power to meet wealth simply, holding it only as trust | in fee. is no more extraordinary than the courage to meet poverty gaily?"