The Story Of A Poor Rich Woman

Sunday School Times. How well I remember my grand motuer, sitting erect in her straight backed chair beside Ler favorite win dow, her fine, vvell-poiaed head and del icately cut features sharply outlined against the casement. On this particu lar afternoon, of which I wish to speak she held her usual knitting in herbands but as she neither moved nor knitted we children, who were grouped aroun( an open fire in the room, concluded tha she wa8 asleep, and talked in whisper that we thought verjlow and sof t Betty, our colored cook. who had nursei U3 all when we were babies, and now scolded and pettedus by turns, had jus brought in a píate of her famous cook ies, which we were enjoying by the light of a cheerful blaze. Feeling very comfortable, as we drew our smal chairs i:earthe flre and partook liberal ly of the cookies, our tonguea ran a children's tongues are wont to run when they think no older person is He tening. "What are you going to be when jou grow up ?!' asked my cousiri Ealph, turn ing to my brother Jack. i "Why a stage-driver, of course ! l'll have four houses and a great long whip with a splendid cracker. l'll whip up the team. and away we'll go I You shall ride in it for nothing, Ralph," said Jack, as seriously as if the team stood waiting at the door. "Yes, if I'm here," replied Ralph"I'm thinking of traveling all over the world. I am not quite sure whether l'll go to the North Pole or to the middle of África." "Ihat would be fun, too," said Jack. "I wonder what these two girls want to be" with that slight touch of eontempt in his tone that beys are wont to use in speakingof the occupations of girls. "I should lite to have a cake-shop," said Elsie proraptly, and mako all the cakes and pies myself," "We'llfeometo see you often, my dear," said Jack, encouragingly. 'l'll come in my carriage," cried I, "and order lot of cakes and good things, for I expect to be rich, and have plenty of dresses and jewelry and carriages. Betty says there's a line on the palm of my Land that mean3 money, so you see I shall be sure to have it. I intend to do just as I please, and have black cake and ice cream for dessert every day. There's nothing in the world as nice as having plenty of money and new dresses all the time!" "Dressesl That's just like a. girl; al ways thinking about dresse.:!' exclaiined Jack, with such energy that grandmamma stirred in her sleep, and said: "Dresses, my dear; do you know how mauy dresses Queen Elizabeth had ?" "Ño, grandmamma." ''About a thousand at one time; so the court chroniclers teil us. Do you think they made her happy ?" "Not thedresseaonly,"! said,8h;ïking my foolish littlo head; " but the money to buy them. Money makes people happy." Then, when graudmamma looked as if she did not agree with me, Iadded quickJy, "Of course, I don't mean to speud it all on myself. 1 mean to be generous and givo a great deal to the poor." "One need not be rich in order to be generous," she answered. "The most generous people whom I know are pour in this world's goods. The Bible talks of the deceitfulness of riches," and taking up her will-worn volume, which was her constant companion, she reac those words of the Lord Jesus that had always puzzled me when I heard them read in church: "Verily I say unto you, that a riek man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needie than for a rich man to enter into the kinsdom of God." Hard words they seemed to me. I could not understand why rich people should be spoken of so ; those whom I knew were nice and kind, all except old Mr. Scraggs, the raiser of the village, whom the children disliked because he would not share his cherries with us, even when they were rotting on the trees. I knew what "the eye of a needie" meant ; it had been explained to us that the needie was a small gateway. While I could really see why it would be hard for cross old Ssraggs, with his great money bags, to squeeze through the narrow gateway that leads into the kingdom, I wondered why the kind and gentle Lürd Jesus should speak so of all rich people. My eyes, raised to her face with eager questioning, must have asked just what I wished to know, for grandmamma continued; "Jt seems te me that it is not with any thought of particular blame or anger that the Lord Jesus speaks thus of the rich ; but knowing the effect of riches on the heart, he had an especial word of warning f or those poor rich people who were in danger of having their hearts hardened by their large possessions. Let me teil you a little story that will explain what I mean. It is about an i old woman in an Euglish almshouse. This old dame, Mrs. Grey, was rathe; better off than her neighbors, having a nephew who, out of his earnings, tllowed her sixpence a week for pocket money." "Onlysix cents!" cried Jack. "And for a grown-up woman; why, I have that much myself I" "No, it was more than that; aa glish sixpence is equal to nearly twelve cent3 of our monty. Not mucb to be sure; yet, with this small inconie, Mrs Grey not only kept a store of tea, sugar and other dainties for herself, but was ableto give occasional tea-parties to which she invited herparticukrfriends among the old dames. They enjoyed their tea together, and doubtless had many a dish of gossip over it. "One bright day, that is the brightest kmd of a day that comes in somber London, a serious-lookiug gentleman in a black coat carne to see Mra. Grey and after spending a full hour in her little room, went away looking as solemn as when he arrived. Not so Mrs. Grey who followed him to the door, smilhig and courtesying as low as if he had been the Lord Chancellor. Soon after a large package arrived for Mrs. Grey' Of course her neighbore weremuchexcited, and all anxiety to know what wa3 goingn in her room. One old dame who peeped in at the window, saw Mrs. Grey atrutting about before her lookmg-glass, arrayed in a rich purple silk dress, a velvet mantle, and a gay bonnet, with a great white feather on one side that looked strangely out of place as it nodded and wave I about her withered old face. As she stood there admiring herself and her fine feathers in the glass, the poor old lady looked very much like a gorgeously plumed parrot; and the friend who was peeping ran away, and said that Mrs. Grey had gone crazy. Small wonder that she thought so; but where had the ñne clothes come from. Thi3 set the old dames to wondering whether she had had a visit from a fairy godmother. Soon after tuis, Mrs. Grey invited her neighbors to spend the evening with her. Tlus time, although she received them in a gay silk gown, no tea was handed to them; but they were not stirprised at thia, and said among themselves that no wonder her head was turnecl, for they soon learned that Mrs. Grey had come into a fortune. This is what the serious-looking man bad come to teil her. "Now for the moral of my tale. Mrs. Grey was no longer sociable with her friends, but spent all her time fretting and werrying about the handsome house that had been left her, fearing that gome thief might break througb and steal, or that moths might injure' the elegant carpets that had not been; hers a week before. There were no more pleasant tea-drinkings in her little parlor and when she left the almshouse, which she did a few days later wrapped in silks and velvets, there was only one old dame to stand by the carriage and wish Mrs. Grey 'God speed.' The others would have been glad to wi3h her well, for they were kindhearted old women; but in these few days of prosperity Mrs. Grey liad treated them very rudely, thinking that her money and her fine clothes made her superior to them. The old dame waa something of a flatterer, and as she slood courtesying and saying, 'How sweet you look, ma'am, in your beautiful clothes ! this silly ol wornan, who looked more like a parrot. than ever, smiled on her, and with a. toss of her plumed head, said, 'Thank you, my good woman ; you'll find a; ha'penny worth of i ca and a ha'pennv worth of sugar in my cupboard ; take them for yourself, they 're of the best," and with the air of one who has giveii a handsome present, she ordered the coachman to diive away, not osee glancing back on the scène of her past life. Never ag;tin did Mrs. Grey invite her former neighbors to sup with her, altliough she could now have given them cake and ice creara, instead of a singlo cup of tea that she had once been pleased to offer them." I laughed to lude my confusión, for [ now knew that my grandmother had heard all my foolish speeches. Without BOticlüg my blushes, she added softly, 'Biches do not harden all hearts, my dear, as they did Mrs. Grey'g. Thoséwho hold them as a good gift of God., to be used for his service, fmd them a means of blessing to themselves ar: others." Truo Stories of Littlo People Harley was with his raatnmi and Uacle Davis, spending the nightaway f rom home some distance. "VVhile walking out with his únele in tbe evenrag, he saw their host taking some honey from the bee-hives. He watched the proceedings with great interest, and at the irst opportunity slipped quietly to lis mamma's side and whispeied in her ear joyfully, "Mamma, we are going to have bees for breakfast." Little Winnie aged flve, one day fell and hurt her forehead. Wishing to see t in the gla3s, her mamma held her up o it. On seeing it, she exclaimed, 'Why, mamma, it's a bludan." The ame little girl one day was watching her mother piek the feathers off of chicken. She looked at it a moment nd then said, "Mamma it is taking all. he coatíes ofí the chickies." Faitn, aged uve, saw lier father (a small man and, a preacher) standing at the gate eonversing with a doctor, a somewhat large mivn. The next day shesaid: "Papa, you and Dr. Hunter talked at our gate yesterday, didn't you ? EIow much fcigger he is than you. Are doctors bigger than preachers?" Cari, aged two, was staying a short time at his grandpa's. His Aunt Mary carried him out on a starry night, pointed his eyes to the stars, and asked. "What are they, Cari?" He replied, "Them's 'tars; must n't touch 'em."