Edna's April Fool

It was an unpainted, dingy-looking, one story house, bo small that the entrance to the cellar lay through a trap-door in the kitchen ; but the dinginess was all on the outside, for within the wooden walls were as clean as soap and sand could make them, and the patched curtain at the window was almost immaculate in its whiteness. A venerable stove, a few wooden chaira, and an oldfashioned round table comprised most of the furniture of the room. When Edna had finished dusting these, she opened the trap-door and peered half timidly into the darkness beneath. She was descending the steep aud narrow stairs, her head just disappearing in the dusky depths below, as Tim Parsons peeped curiously in at the window. Outside the door a long-sleeved pink calicó apron had been hung upon the bushes to dry. lts vivid hues seemed to mock tbe pale-eyed violets that bloomed in the shadow of the rose hush, as it flaunted above them, tossed to and fro by the breeze. A moment later, the little Edna returned, bringing a scanty dish of vegetables, and sin ging softly to herself a low-toned melody. But the pink calicó apron had disappeared from the bushes, and Tina Parsons was far away down the street, driving hi8 cows to pasture and whistling as he went with unwouted glee. He conflded his exploit to his most intímate friend, Henry Bedortha, an hour later, in the school-yard. 'She'll think the wind blew it away,' he whispered, 'and at recess we'll have some f un over it-' 'Are you sure no one saw you ?' asked Henry, as the bell rang for school. 'Yes, for her father was going into the bar-room as I canie past, and her mother is cleaning house for Mrs. Jacobs,' returned Tim as they ran hastily into the house. That morning the teacher, Miss Parmalee, called the roll, as usual, beginning with Abram Adams, whose father boasted that he was the seventh descendant of that uame from the origignal Abram Adams, who came over among the early settlers, and ending with Viola Anastasia Wilkinson, whose mother said she agreed with the man who, when he named his children, did not consider it necessary to set them up as tombstones for their grandfathers. But when Miss Parmalee reached the name of Edna Brown there was no response. Glancing up at the empty seat, she placed a black mark in the register opposite Ednii's name, and proceeded with her list. The school exercises went on without interruption until after recess, when, just as the tirst class in arithmetic was reciting, there came a knock at the door. A sudden hush feil upon the school as Mrs. Hontoon and Mrs. De La Mater entered and were seated upon the platform. Parthenia Morse was at the blackboard, weeping over an inscrutable complex fraction that she had been askei to reduce and explain. Bob Simonds had turned back his coatsleeves and was working with greath energy at the problem assigned him : "If 248 men in 5 L days of 12 hours each, dig a ditch of 7 degrees of hardness, 232 yds. long, 3 yds. wide, and 2J yds. deep, in how many days of 9 hours each will 24 men dig a ditch of 4 degrees of hardness, 387J yds. long, 5J yds. wide, and 3J yds. deep?" His answer was 155. Annie Todd and Nellie Kemp, the two most active members of the primer class, were industriously running slate pencils through the whole length of their apron hems. At a sign from the teacher they f olded their arms, Parthenia suppressed her tears, and Bob explained the Compound Kule of Three. Then the primer class was called, and Annie Todd lifted her downcast face, withdrew her finger from lier motith, and began to read. 'H-a-t.' 'What does h-a-t spell ?' '1 don't know.' 'Oh! yes, you do!' said Miss Parnialee, encouragingly. 'What dees your father wear upon his head besides a cap ? Now, try it again,' slie added, as she noted the sudden glearu of intelligence iu the child's eye. 'H-a-t - wig! was the triumphant response of the literal Annie, who could scarcely say the alphabet, notwithstanding the f act that she could run pencils through the hem of her apron faster than any other member of the school. . Promptly at twelve o'clock the bell struck for dismissal; but Mrs. Hontoon and Mrs. De La Mater lingered a ment to talk with the teacher. 'One of rny best girls ia absent this morning,' said Miss Parmalee. 'Little Edna Brown. Sueh a thing has never happened before withher and I'm af raid she is sick.' 'Oh! that is the new fainily who moved into the old Johnson house,' observed Mrs. Hontoon. 'Please, Miss Farmalee, Edna is not siek,' said Bessie De La Mater, who was waiting for her inother. 'She was in the yard this morning when I came past, crying as if her heart would break. She had lost her pink apron and had no other to wear to school." 'Could she not have come without an apron, for once, rather than have an absent mark ?' asked the teacher primly. 'She thought the scholars would laugh at her,' answered Bessie; 'for the sleeves of her dress were made of different kinds of calicó and it was patched all over, but it did not show under the apron. She said they were dreadf ully poor. 'The father drinks,' was Mi's. De La Mater's parenthesis. 'And,' continued Bessie, 'she bas not been able to go to churck or Sabbath school, because she had no suitable clothes; and now she is af raid she will be obliged to leave the day school.' Tim Parsons had loitered in the school room to exchange confldences witb Ilenry in regard to spending the two new, bright half dollars that were jingling ia his pockets. Balls, knives, kites, and marbles must be discussed and decided on. He was an impulsivo boy, and, somewhat to the surprise of the aristocratie Mrs. De La Mater, was at her side in a moment. 'Here's the apron,' he cried. 'I just took it for a joke. I never thought but that she had another. I am very sorry I did it, Miss Parmalee. I should never have thought of hidingitif 'it hadn't been the first ef April.' Something in the boy's frank confe3sion rather won upon Mrs. De La Mater. She checked the rising tide of Miss Parmalee's wrath, and suggested that, when Tim i cturned the apron, he should enclose in it a blue and white plaid dress that Bessie had outgrown. 'And there Í3 quite a good-looking pair of shoes, that are too small for her. You might put those in, too,' she added. 'I wül give her the small round hat I wore last slimmer,' said Mrs. Tlontoon. 'I can take off the wreath of poppies, and trim it with some blue ribbon that I have and a bunch of apple blossoms; so, if you will cali early tliis evening, Tim, it shall be ready for you.' 'I would like to contribute something,' said Miss Parmalee. 'Tüere is a cloth sacque I wore four years ago. It is too short for me and a little faded ; but, if it could be turned, it would make a nice long one for Edna.' 'We will make it over this afternoon, if you will trust it with us,' said Mrs. De La Mater. 'I can cut it by Bessie's cloak-pattern and vary a little to make it smaller.' 'And I will send a pair of my blueand-white-striped stockings, to match her hat and dress,' whispered Bessie, who was a type of her mother - in brevier. That afteruoon, at recess, Tim Parsons and Henry Bedortha had a long and confldentLl talkbehind the wood-pile. In valn ilid the other boys try to lure them forth to their favorite game of leap-frog, They remained in secret conclave till the bell called them in, and through the afternoon frequently exchanged significant glances. At the close of school they departed at once to the store, on their mission of benevolence, they having, at the cost of great self-denial, flnally decided to use all their pending money for Edna. 'She'll want a common, every-day dress,' whispered Tim, as they walked up to the counter. 'I would like to look at calicóes,' if you please,' he said, politely. The store-keeper stared. 'Light or dark prints?' he said, interrogatively. Tim hesitated, and Henry came to the rescue. 'Seal brown makes up very prettily.' he observed, tentatively. He had heard his sister make that remark In regard to her new cashmere the Winter before. 'I think I have no prints of that color in just now,' said the merchant, blandly. 'I guess we will take that yellow one,' decided Tim, pointing to a largeflgured, gorgeous-looking compound of orange and scarlet. 'How many yards did you wish?' asked Mr. Pinney, as he prepared to cut off the goods. ■I would like to look at gloves,' interrupted Henry, whose flnances only amounted to twenty cents. 'I will take these,' he announced, selecting a pair of brown cotton ones, large enough for a descendant of Anak. ,How many yards did you say?' reiterated Mr. Pinney, who had had the piece in stock for years and was glad of a chance to sell it. 'I used to ask ten cents a yard for that print; but, seeing it is you, I will let you have it for eight.' 'I should think twelve yards would be enough to make a dress for Edna Brown. Shouldn't you, Henry?' whispered Tim. 'Better cali it twelve and a half,' returned Henry, after making a mathematical calculation; 'or, stay a minute, get thirteen and make him throw in the whole for a dollar.' While Tim was agitating the matter of the extra half yard Mrs. Hontoon came in to get a new elastic for the hat With a woman's quick instinct she divined the situation at a glance. She quietly suggested to Henry a small pair of lisle-thread gloves, to match the sacque, and persuaded Tim to select a small-flgured and less]gorgeous pattern; and, as he still insisted ou the thirteen yards, it proved in the end enough for a dress for both Edna and her mother. Then Henry inquired what Mr. Pinney was goingto throw In with the gloves; and the merchant, who was beginning by this time to get interested in the matter, handed him a lace ruflíe for the neck, remarking, good-naturedly, that they were a couple of young sharpers, and if he liad much of their trade it would ruin him. That eveuing there was a kneck at Air. Browri's door. Upon opening it a large box was disclosed, directed to Bdna. 'It is sonie miserable April fooi,' muttered her father thickly, as they opened it with slow and cautious movements ; but when its contents carne to light the little girl laughed and cried all in a breath, and danced around the ïoom, almost upsetting the tallow candle that flared dimly on the table. And no one thought of looking toward the window where two boys were peeping around the edge of the curtain. Sunday was a clear, bright day, and certainly Solomon in all bis glory was not arrayed like Edna Brown, in the eyes of her gratified mother. And, indeed, she was a pleasant thing to look at, for her hair was as golden and her azure-tinted eyes as bright as if she had been a rich man's daughter ; and the soul was very pure and sweet that looked out at its Windows. 'Th blue ribbon is exactly the color of her eyes,' murmured Mrs. De La ter to Mrs. Hontoon. 'And the pink and white apple blossoms just match her complexion.' 'Oh, that was a mei e chance,' responded Mrs. Hontoon lightly. 'Sut the sacque is such a perfect fit that I do not believe Worth himself could have sent out a nicer-looking garment.' 'It was only a happy accident,' returned Mrs. De La Mater. But for my own part, I doubt the assertion of both ladies, for something deeper than chance had been at work. And the father sold the new clothes for rum bef ore the week was out? No, indeed, there was no place in the village where he could have done such a thing had he been so minded ; but he was not at heart a bad man, only a weak one, who, disappointed at not linding any work since he moved into the town, had drifted back into bis old habits of intemperance. But the events of the day had called attention to the family, and immediately Mr. De La Mater sought out Mr. Brown and gave him steady employment, encouraging him to reform by his kindly interest, wise counsel, and watehf ui care. The old-fashioned melodeon, that Bessie's new piano had driven into exile, was brought down from the attic, repaired, tuned, and sent to the little weather-bealen houae on the old Johnson place. And many an evening did it flll the room with a melody unknown to the bar-rocm. And so, little by little, Edna's father carne up out of the gulf of poverty and sin into which he had fallen, for helping hands were stretched out on every side to lift him up, till, at last, as the years have gone by, he stands, to all human seeming. a new man, upon the ltock, Christ Jesus. As to Tim Parsons and Henry Bedortha, the former has been two years in college, and, though less brilliant in scholarship than BobSimonds, isdistinguished as the sophomore who has never been guilty of hazing. And Henry, who is now heaá clerk in Mr. Phinney's store, is, according to Madam Humor, about to build a Gothic cottage on the old Johnson place.