The Good Deed In Season

BV MISS VIRGINIA P. TOWNSEND. " Get away with you, you dirty old beggar boy ! I'd like to know what right you -have to look over tiie funco at our flowers." The speaker was a little boy not more thau eleven years old, and, though sonietimes people ■ciilled it handsorne, his face looked verj harsh and disagreeable just tlien. Ha stood in a benutiful garden, just n the suburbs of the city ; and il was June time, and the tulips were opening themselvos to the sunsbine. Oh, it wiia a great joy to look at them, as they boed graeefully to the light winds their uecks of yellcw, of crimson, and curnatinn. Tha beds flanked ei'.her side of tho path that curved around a stnull arbor, vvhero the young grape clusters that lay bidden aniong tho leaves wrote a bcuutiful propiieey tbr Autiimn. A white paling ran in front of the eerden, and over thls the little beggiir boy so rudoly addre-sod was leuning. Me was very lean, very dirty, very ragged. I am afra, d, little children, you would have turned away in disgust Iroto so repulsiva a peohide ; aud yet God and the angels loved hita. He was lcoicing, witli oll his foul in bia eyes, on tho beautiful blossomi üs they snayed to and fro in the summer wind, and his heart softeued as he leaned his nrm on the feuce railing, and for zot everything in that long absorbed azo. Ah, it was el dom the beggar boy saw anything so beautiful, and it was sad his dream should have such a lude awakening. The blood ruahed up to his face, and a glance full of evil and deSance flashed into his eyes. But, before the boy could retort, a httld giri sprang out from the arbor and looked eagerly irooi one child to the othtr. 8ti was very ftiir, with soft huzel eyes, over which drooped long nhining lasiu's. Rich curls hung over her bare white shouldcrs, and her lips were the color of the crimson tulip bioseoms. " How could you speak so cross to the boy, Hinton?" slio asked, with a tone of ad reproach quiverin through tbe sweetness of her voioo. " I'tn Bure it doesn't do us any harm to have him look at the flowers as loog as he wants to." " Well, Helen," urged the brother, slightly ashamed, "I don't like to have beggars gaping over the fouce ; it louks 60 lOW."" " Now, that's all a notion of yours, Hiutou. I'm sure it tha flowers oan do auybody any good we ought to be very glad. Little boy, and tbe child turned to the beggar boy and addresRed bina as ourteou-ly as though he had been a prince, " I'll piek you some of the tulips, if you wil) wait a moment." " Helen, I do believe you're thf funniest girl thbt ever lived 1" ejaculated the child brother, as he turued away, and, with a low whistle, snuulered down the path, feeling very uncornfortablo, for her conduct was a strouger reproof than any viords could have been. Helen picked one of each ppecimen of the tulipB, as there was a gre:tt variety of these, and gave them to the child His face brightened as ha received them, and thankcd her. Oh, the little girl had dropped a pearl of great price into the black billow of the boy's lile, and the after yeurs should bring it up bright and beautiful again. Twolve yeitrs have passed. The little blue-eyed girl ba grown uto a tall, grace'ul woüinn. 0"0 bright June af ternoon shü wulked with her husband through the garden, for sha was oa a visit to her pareuts. The place was little changed, and tho tulips had opened their lips of cnuison and gold to the sunshine just as they had dona twelve years bcfore. tíuddenly they oberved a young man in a workniari's overalls, leauing over the ftnee, his eyes wanderiug eagerly from the beautiful flowers to herself. He hnd a frank, pleasant couutenance, and there was soiuething in his marnier that interet-ted the lady and gentleman. ' Look here, Edward," she haid, " I'll pluck him some of tbe flowers. It J ways dous me good to gee peoplo 1 .niring them ;" and, releasing her hnband' arm, she appioached the paling, paying- and the smile upoD her lips was very like the old cbild oce - " Are you ioad of flowers, air ? It wil! give me gr8t pteaflure t gatber you tome. " I The young workmau looked a moment very earuetly iuto her face. " Tvvelve years this very month," he laid, wilh a voico deep, yet trtruulous with feelwgj " I stood bure leaning on this railing, a dirty, ragged little beggnr bov, and you uyked mo this very qut'S tion. Twt Ive yeais go you placed tha brifilit flowers in my hand, and they made me u uew boy - ay, and they have uiado a man of me, too. Your face luis been a light, ma'am, all long tbe duik hours of my lile, and tbia day the littlo boggar boy can stand on the old phice and say to you, thoiigh he is an bumblu and hiird-working man, jet, thauk God, he's an bonett one." Tear-drops glistened like morning dew on the sliining Inshea of tbe lady, af she turned to hor buabaod, wh'o had joined her, and listened in Hbsorbed astonisbraent to the workmau's vvords. " God.'1 she said, " put it into my heart to do that little kindnesa, and sec how great is the roward be bas gi ven me." And tho setting sun poured a rich flood of light over the group tbat stood there - over the workman in his blue overalls, over the lady with her gent'eman by her side. Altogether it waa a picture for a painter, bnt the angels who looked on it irom beaven, saw somathing more tbau a pietui'e there.