Year: 1878

As l arrived in sight of the school
house the children were trooping out
and were lining the sidewalks in all di
rections. Some of the boys were stop
ping to spin their tops; the girls, many
of them were showing their skill in
throwing and catching the return ball,
others were chatting over the days
lessons, but all were looking very hap
py that school was over, and that hall
holiday was just aheads6f them.


Close to the gate [ found little
group collected; and as drew near
was panied to hear voice that sounded
very like our little Mays talking in
loud and excited tones. [ joined the
circle at once, and sure enough there
she was in the center of it, standing be-
fore boy who was twice her size, her
eyes flashing, her face flushed with in
tense feeling, while he looked both
ashamed and sullen. Just as | stepped
up unnoticed by any, she was saying


You ought to be ashamed of your
self, Jim Plummer. You are a bad,
wicked boy. You will never go to hea-
ven, never, and l hate you; I'll never
speak to you again SO long as [ live-so
there now!" And with stamp of her
little foot May pushed her way through
the group, and started on a run for
home.


May" | called, stop, May, and wait
for me-" She turned, and seeing me
ran to my side and burst into tears.


Amt it too bad, aunt Katy" she
sobbed out, ''that bad Jim Plummer has
been a maxim fun of poor little Archie
Howard, what's got the little sick back,
you know. An jest when Archie was
comm out of school, Jim hollered out
jest as loud as anythin': 'Hulloa, here
comes Hunchie, with his peck on his
back. Want it awful, aunty? and
poor Archie, the tears came right into
his eyes; but he never said a word back,
only when he got up to where Jim was,
he said real softly. L wish God had
made me straight like you, Jimmie, and
then he went right along home. But
want [ mad though; and didn't l give
it to him? | just wish 10 or some of
the big boys had been there; wouldn' t
they gave him fits for maxim fun of a
poor dear sick boy like Archie" And
here May burst into another fit of cry
ing.


Come, come little girl" said, Il
don't blame you one bit for feeling an
CRY at so cruel boy, but he has hurt
himself far more than he has Archie, for
no one will ever love or care for one who
would speak unkindly to one of God S
little, weak, and sickly lambs. But this
is Wednesday, you know, and the day
for our story, and it may comfort you a
little to have me tell you a perfectly
true story of dear little deformed girl
whose aunty knew well; and who told
me the story herself. Perhaps some
time you can tell it to Archie when it
will be a real help to him, and will show
him that there are but very few boys in
the world, even among the poorest and
the most forsaken, who could be so cru
el as Jim Plummcr has been to-day.


Fay Hooper Was at the time OF my
story about 13 years of age. Her face
was one of the most beautiful | ever
looked upon. She was very fair and
white, with the most delicate pink in
her cheeks, which, when she smiled,
were dented with two deep dimples, and
her lips when parted showed two ever,
rows of such lovely white teeth, that
they looked exactly like two strings OF
little tiny pearls, while her beautiful
golden -colored hair fell in long ringlets,
to her waist. But, alas! her poor shoul-
ders were sadly out of shape, and she
had never grown any after she was s
years old. A wee little dwarf she was
and must always be, who could never
join with the children in their sports,
and who at times through her whole life
must long and wish for that which she
could never have.


But with her poor little body God had
given her the sweetest and happiest dis
position. She would sit out Of doors in
her easy chair, watching the children at
play, and would laugh SO merrily at their
pranks, and say so many funny things,
that all the little folks in the neig ghbor-
hood used to say that they never had a
really good time unless Fay was near
by. In winter, well wrapped up in her
little sleigh, with two of her girl friends
for pair of ponies, they would take her
to the hill to watch the merry coasters,
while at the pond where the skaters
were, there was many goodnatured
quarrel among the boys to know who
should be the one to push Fay's sleigh
over the ice.


In fact, she shared, as far as she could,
all their sports; for the children loved
her very dearly, and tried to make her
forget how unlike them she was. But
sometimes poor Fay would get sad in
spite of all she could do, and many
times did her mamma find her hidden
away from sight, crying, oh, so bitterly,
and when she tried to comfort her, she
would say:


But, oh, why, mamma, do you sup
pose the dear God didn't make Inc tall,
and in shape, like all the other children,
and then looking so mOurnfulIy into her
mothers face she would add, Just think,
mamma, | shall never be a grown up
girl, but always poor wee deformed
Fay"


But now | am coming to something
very pleasant that happened to Fay one
day while she was visiting her auntie in
Boston, the lady who told me the story,
and who said every word of it was true.


She was weary of staying in the house
and so had obtained permission of her
ante to go to store near by and look
at some pictures there.


She was dressed, as she always was,
in pure white, her dress being made to
hide as much as possible her poor little
back, while overit hung her beautiful
curls, making the most lovely mantle
you could think of. She had tied on at
starting white lace hat, but the wind
had blown it back, so that the sweet
face was in full view. She was stopping
to look at the window of the store she
was about to enter, and was so interest
ed in what she saw that she had not no
ticed poor, ragged and dirty boy who
had taken his stand beside her, and was
gazing very earnestly at her


He was truly boy of the streets; not
perhaps wicked one, but whose eyes
looked mschievous, and as though their
owner could say some pretty saucy
things. But there was nothing of that
about him now He simply stood and
looked at Fay as if he was almost afraid
of bor orI x,ot oc {bourb bo oou11 NOT