Year: 1862

Mrs. Stirling leaned toward the little creatur and looked at her more closely. Could it b , hunger she thought, that made those blue eye look so large and the skin SO transparent Wa this this little thing actually suffering for bread and she going to spend five hundred dollars il one evening, feasting those who never fslt , want even of dainties?., She knew TOW wha s. thoughts had been in her husbands mind whel he spoke of suffering amoug the poor. She said ! pleasantly,

 Well. child, you must have some luncheon and then will go with you to See your sister, had better speak to her about the work.

 'Ain't it right? Can't you pay her?' Tb' child gave start of alarm, and spoke with thu premature womanliness and the natural appre hension of misfortune which are among the sad dest fruits of poverty.

 Mrs. Stirling relieved her with ready sym

 Yes, indeed. the work fs all right It's done beautifully i; but waatedsto sesyour sister abou some more, and perhaps I can do her some goood' s5

 It would have made the kind lady'sheart ache could she have seen the eagerness with whicf the half famished child devoured the lunch which was set before her in the kitchen.

 In few moments they were ready to start Mrs. Stirling had replaced her velvet mantle by 1 O SCOtCu Sudwl, ueT TEtuCu ldG Uy q Slulplt straw /; and with casket in her hand, containing few dainties with which she hoped to tempt the sick girls palate. she followed the child across the city toward C---street, locality hitherto ter TO incognita to her.

 In half-dllapidated wooden house. in mar row court, she found the object of her search.- She went up two fights::o stairs, and entered 6 back room lighted by one window. The atmos phere struck her. in spite of her warm attire with sudden chill. Evidently the sun never came there. The dampness on the walls, the 1 general aspect of gloom and cheerlessness, was only relieved by an air of scrupulous neatuess which prevailed everything. Mrs. Stirling had i already noticed this quality in the attire of the child, which, though cheap and poor and patch ed, was as immaculate in itsscleanliness as her l own.

 1 At the window attempting to sew, the older sister sat, but she was evidently very i'll. Every now and then a spasm of coughing seized her which compelled her to lay down her work and clasp both her hands on her side, while the pale. ness of her thin cheek flushed into hectic. Mrs Stirling had not seen her before since spring the work returned that morning having been sent her by servant. She went up to her and sat down in chair which stood near.

 Your sister said you were sick, and so came to see if could be of any use to you she said | LII SCHtiC CoueSS WuiCH Ol CHetfSetfCS CdTEiSu u certain comfort with them. You have changed terribly since spring. I must hear all about it but want you should eat what have brought you-here are some wine jelly, and bit of cold chicken-they will do you good

 The poor girl looked at the yiands with the involuntary greediness of hunger. Then she blushed deeply. and said in low voice:

 I am very grateful Madam, but if you please will wait until you leave me. Allow me at present to attend to you

 No, indeedv Mrs Stixlng 7spoke in her pretty absolute fashion. sIam not going yet want to talk with you awhile and I shall not do so until you have taken something to strength en you. Little Jane has lunched already.

 So the gay, bright lady sat and waited, feeling in the new prospect of being actively useful a genuine glow of delight. When the girl had : finished her generous meal and taken up her work again, Mrs. Stirling began to talk to her. | Is this consumption, Annie? she asked gently. Your cough alarms me-

 No ma'am, 1 am very sure it is nothing ol the kind Yet. There is no consumption in oul family. My father was country minister, and had strong and healthy constitution. He died young, but it was from violent fever, caught in attendance on sick stranger. think it was grief which made my mother follow him in three months. She had always been delicate, though not sckly, and she lacked the strength it requires to live and suffer- It is seven years since she died, Oh the very day little Jane was born.' | How old were you then?

 Fifteen, and there were no living children be tween us two.'

 And you have supposted yourself and he' ever since?

 'Oh, no! My fathers books and furniture sold for enough to keep us some time, and my aunt. who lived here, brought us to Boston. We both lived with her. She took care of Jane, and l worked in shop, and earned enough to buy our clothes and help Aunt Martha with the liv ing. It is only since she died. three years ago that have been alone with Jenny

 Tou came out of the shop then ?

 Yes, because I could not have Jenny there with me- and she had no one else to See her and indeed 1 have made more money since, have embroidered go much

 But surely you have suffered more than usu al this summer?

 oh. yes, ma'am. The ladies that work fol are mostly out of town in the summer always and so winters try to save something to helF us through. But last winter was so hard that had not as much work as usual, and this summer we have not been very we'll of. had to give up the comfortable room used to have, because l could not earn enough to pay for it, and sup l me- --

 She tried to smile, but the tears came instead Mrs. Stirling took her hand with comforting pressure. P

 Don't cry. Better times are coming to yor now. am sure can obtain you great dca more work. You shall have enough to do and we must see that you move out of this; s;;damp, un Healthy place.

 Sister Annie smiled sadly.

 I The landlord has seen to that, Madam. I car only stay here three days longer. He wants te let the room to tenant who will pay more; an' to go out and find another place.

 Well, you must not feel anxious. Just leave that till tomorrow. Then if you are not able t< go. will find a place for you. It cannot be 6 difficult matter to find one as good as this. Al any rate, tomorrow you shall see me again anc in the meantime the pay for the work little Jane brought home will make you comfortable So saying, she put into the girls hand twics the customary price for the embroidery she haa done, and without waiting fer the thanks whici trembled on Apnie Hadleys pale lips, she wen out of the room, down the stairs, and returned home after this her first charity visit

 On the way she stopped but once, and thai was not to look into any of the windows, gay with autumn goods, or to exchange her hundred dollar note on the Suffolk Bank for silks or satins She only went for Q moment to a neat, respecta ble looking house on Myrtle street, and thes hurried home.

 She met her husband, when he came to hi five o'clock dinner, with Q beaming smile. Tn. , meal was welcooked and neatly served; th, wife opposite him was young and fair and whe, John Stirling rose from. the table and went will