Year: 1878

I am an editor and one bitter cold
morning, few days before Christmas,
IN the year 49,, sat as usual at my
lcsk. Among the heap Of manuscripts
{ was daily compelled to examine
many of them desnltory, untidy, and
unstitched, defiant of spelling, subvar-
sive Of grammar, and with neither be-
ginning, middle or end-was one. writ
ten on the softest cream-laid French
white paper, in a childish lady's hand,
on lines which had been carefully erased
Afterwards. 1t was a little story of no
great literary merit, but there was an
aroma of youth and of sweetness in every
line. There was a promise in it. 1t
was like the light in the sky before the
sun had risen on fine day-an omen, a
portent of sunshine and warmth, but no
more. put it down as if I had touch
ed the petal OF rose, There was tiny
scented note beside it-of course full OF
italics:


"DEAR Mr.. EDITOR: I send you a
little story. lam only sixteen, and papa
and mamma do not know anything
about it, but please tell me if it he
worth anything. Iaoant it to be print
Ell ,Dant to be paid for it. It is not
for myself, though, but I want the
money to give uy dear little brother a
nice little birthday present. I am,
dear Mr.. Editor, yours, ETC.,


"EM1LY -"


Then came the address and signature.
The writing of the note was less neat
md regular than the manuscript. But
here was the same fragrance of dainty
youth about it.


I held it long time in my hand. I
am an old man at all events middle.
.ged. perhaps something more but my
heart is younger than my appearance.
Little Installations came, or seemel> to
come, from the paper I held. It was
with no common feeling of interest that
{ sat down and wrote my answer to the
note. I returned the manuscript. hut
wrote gently and tenderly I gave it
,s my hope and nv opinion that, with a
little more care and study. the Youthful
writer would achieve a success. even
promised to print that identical manu-
Icriptif it were little revised or cor
rectei. and I pointed ont how it might
be made available. I opened the window
Il my den after I had written my note.
The weeds piercing through the flags
Yellow had less dreary look than they
had ever had before CLEAN of sun
shine shone on them, and their frosty
veriure borrowed something Of Picciola
brightness from it. I posted my letter
md the manuscript to the address
named, and went home. wondering If
,ver should hear from the writer again
With that, however, all thoughts of the
manuscript passed away. The author
vas too timid to reply.


On Christmas Eve I was asked as
usual to dine with an oil friend Of mine
1t st. Johns Wood. lie was married
nan. with pleasant comely wife, and
several small children, male and female


"The children are not coming down
to dinner" said my hostess, "for they
are going to give US surprise after
wards"


I bowed and was delighted, both at
the anticipation of pleasure to come, and
Of privation for the first time of consid-
erable present annoyance. need not
say was then a bachelor. When we
went up stairs after dinner, we found the
olding-doors which divided the front
rom the back room closed.


They we're opened after a while.
The Christmas hymn WAS sung, and a
.ree of the most brilliant splendor was
revealed: on its branches we're hung
lifts worked and embroidered by the
children for their parents. The three
little girls and their governess had done
it all.


While my friend and his wife were
embracing and thanking the cl il,lren, I
had time to notice the governess. She
vas very young, almost a child herself.
4 mass Of bright hair was gathered up
in great waves at each side of her head, d,
and fastened in loose thick loop be.
mind. The bright curls were 80 arranged
as to reveal the ear. The ear and cheek
we're, should rather say they are like
those painted by Leighton in his
"Painter's Honeymoon. Need I say
more OF their ravishing loveliness But
the pretty blue eyes looked as if they
had cried q great deal, and there had
been recent tears, for tho eyelids were
somewhat swollen. She was not sad,
however, for she played on the piano for
the children and for me, their old god
father, to dance to, and she Joined with
us in game of blind mans buff. When
the children retired, she retired also.


"What charming person" said.


"She is most excellent" said my
friend.


Although she is so young, Miss
ia the bread provider Of her family. Her
father and mother have, according to
the cant phrase, seen better days in
fact, they are people of good birth, and
once had good fortune. They have a
son and daughter ; the sen is fine fell
low also. Both the son and daughter
give the greater part of their earnings
to their parents but the son has not
been very fortunate. My little Cover
pess, she is only seventeen, (my chill.
dren are 30 young they do not require
q prim regular governess,) does more
with her salary, mediocre as it is, than
her brother can do with his hard work.
He is clerk in bank"


"And she helps him also, I suppose ?


II dare say she does, but l have new