Norwich bulletin., 1917-03-15
STORIES WRITTEN BY WIDE
 AWAkES.
The Lesson Rose Learned.


 Mrs. Gordon, look at those beauti- full collars bought from a poor wom- an. See how neat they are sewed and embroidered, and to think I bargained them down to twenty cents apiece"
 Mrs. Gordon looked earnestly at the girl. Rose" she said, ''try to picture the poor woman and girls. sometimes children of 12 and 13, who stitch and sew all day long. and the miserable price they are paid"
 Rose laughed lightly and replied: Mrs. Gordon, please don't bother me with the poor and their wants. for I have no time to stuff my head with such nonsense.''
 The older woman sighed and did not talk on that subject any longer.
 A week later she bade her friends goodbye, for she went abroad for a visit in England and France.
 Years had passed. Mrs. Gordon had returned after an absence of ten years. She settled down in her handsome mansion in New York
 The tidings that she got about her friend MT; Green and his daughter were not pleasant. After the failure of his business MT. Green died. His daughter married a poor clerk and lived somewhere in the slums of the city. No one knew where.
 It was the night before Thanlssgiv- ing. Not many people were in the streets, for the rich and the poor alike were busy preparing for the coming holiday.
 Mrs. Gordon felt lonesome: her pictured to herself the happy Thanks, giving she had spent with her friend Mir. Green and his daughter.
 Thus thinking, she dressed and went out in the street. She was: attracted by childish voice which came from the corner of the street.
 Penny, pieaset" the begging voice and face locked up appealingly to Mrs. Gordon. The look was enough, for she recognized the same face and voice as that of her. friend Rose Green.
 Where do you live, my child 9. she asked tte small girl.
 up yonder," the child pointed at a row of dirty brick houses. Mamma went a-begging.''
 The woman and child entered the building. They walked up five flights of dirty stairs. and at last reached door and rushed in a room and cried: Mamma, I've brought a friend,"
 The sight that greeted Mrs. Gordon's eyes was far from pleasant. On a broken couch in the corner of the dark room there lay man, young in years. but illness had aged him. Tn the cen ter of the room, near a heap of un- finished collars, sat a young woman, but the pinched features told their sad story. The woman raised her head and caught the child in her arms and said:
 My poor little girl, when we were rich we had many friends; now when we are in poverty" she hesitated, then in choking sob exclaimed:
 Mrs. Gordon! Mrs. Gordoni My only true friend! How are you ?"
 IT. flash she was embosomed in the motherly arms of Mrs. Gordon.
 The home of Mrs. Gordon was brightly lighted and servants were hurryfng to and fro, for it was Thanks giving eve, and gIaz1cing in the com fortalble room it would be hard to recognize our Friends. Their faces beaming with joy and thanking God that once more they were united. Hap piest of all was Rose, for she knew she had her life's lesson, and she ut tered this psalm:
 Poverty and disgrace will overtake him that rejected correction, but ha than observeth admonition will be honored."
 PHOEBE SCHATz. Yantic