A CHEERFUL GIVER

It was a warm August evening when a farm hand passing the Weston house paused a moment to look admiringly at the picture which the wide open door presented.

A rude frame of home manufacture, covered with netting, kept inquisitive moths from entering, at the same time allowing a flood of light to make its way out into the door-yard, where it lay upon the grass and added glory to the marigolds which grew beside the path.

"Happiest family I know on," muttered the man, drawing a rough hand across his eyes. "Makes me think of the time when I was a little feller ter hum, and had two sisters jest 'baout the size of Square Weston's girls."

Then, with a sigh, the man went on up the road, but the memory of the family group in the brightly lighted room remained in his mind for many a day.

At one side of the table with its bright cloth smoothly spread, sat Mr. Weston perusing the county paper, at times reading aloud a bit of especially interesting news to his wife who was busily at work upon an apron for little Prue. In the centre of the table stood a large lamp, a monument to the enterprise of Silas Barnes, the village storekeeper.

"You folks don't want ter go pokin' raound with taller candles when ye kin git er lamp that gives light like all fireation, do ye?" he had said.

And those farmers who could afford the luxury invested in a lamp at once. Others, whose purses were too lean for such expenditure, affected to prefer candles, declaring the lamplight to be too glaring for their taste.

Just where the light shone through the outline of her rippling hair sat Randy, reading aloud to Prue, who stood beside her at the table, insisting upon seeing each picture as Randy turned the page.

As she finished reading the story, Randy turned, and slipping her arm about Prue drew her closer, while the little sister, giving a contented little sigh exclaimed,

"That's the best story of all, Randy, read it again."

"Why, Prue, you've just heard it twice," said Randy, "you don't want to hear it again to-night!"

"Oh, yes, I do!" cried Prue. "I'd like to hear it all over again from the beginning, 'Once upon a time.' 'F I hear it this once more it'll seem 'bout true."

"I should think 'twould seem threadbare," said her father, with ill suppressed amusement.

"No, no!" cried Prue, "'tain't freadbare, it's fine, the finest in the book. Do read it, Randy, and then I'll be willing to go to bed."

So Randy began once more the story which had so charmed the little sister, and very patiently she read it, while Prue, who was really sleepy, made heroic efforts to keep her eyes open.

Often her lashes would lie for an instant upon her cheek, when immediately she would open her eyes very wide, and look furtively about to see if her drowsiness were detected.

"And they lived happily ever after," read Randy.

"And they lived—happily—ever—after," drawled Prue, as if in proof that she were indeed awake.

"Why Prue," cried Randy, "you're half asleep."

"I'm not," Prue answered, "I heard what you read. You said 'and they lived happy ever after.' Now I'm wide awake, else how did I hear?"

After Prue was safely tucked in bed, Randy returned to the cheerful room below and unfolded her plan for spending her prize money.

Mrs. Weston put aside her sewing to listen, and Mr. Weston laying his paper across his knees, watched Randy keenly as she said,

"You see I've felt that I should like to do something with this prize which it would always give me pleasure to remember, and I know that if you both think best to let me do this, I shall always look back to it with happy thoughts."

There was a pause when Randy had finished speaking, then Mrs. Weston, without a word, placed her hand upon Randy's, as it lay upon the table and the Squire, taking off his glasses and affecting to see a bit of moisture upon them, took out his handkerchief and slowly wiping the lenses he said,

"As far as our letting ye, Randy, the money's yer own ter do as ye please with, but fer my own opinion, ye well know I've always said 'twas' better ter give than receive.' This time ye have both. Ye've known the joy of receiving the prize, and now ye plan ter use it ter make another happy. I'm proud of yer choice, and I guess yer mother thinks as I do. I'm well able now ter give ye all ye need, and if winning and giving yer prize makes ye twice glad, why what more could we ask?"

"I'm so glad you like my plan," said Randy, with sparkling eyes. "Molly is such a nice girl, and the way I'm going to send the gift, she will never guess where it came from, I waited until Prue was asleep to tell you about it.

"She never could keep the secret, and a secret it must be, for Molly is proud and shy and must only think that some one has sent her a nice gift."

"That's right, Randy," said Mrs. Weston, "but do ye think it can be managed so that Molly won't dream where it came from?"

"Oh, yes," Randy answered, "I shall get Jotham to help me, and he will be sure to do my errand just as I direct."

"Wall, I guess that's sure enough," said Mr. Weston, with a chuckle, which Randy heard on her way up the stairs to her little bed-room.

The bright color flushed her cheeks as she thought of Jotham Potts who, since they were both little children, had been her ardent admirer, faithful and eager to do her slightest bidding. She admired his frank, truthful character, appreciated his kindness and valued his friendship, but she made no one friend a favorite, striving rather to be friendly and cordial with all.

In her dreams she sent her gift to Molly many times, and as many times wondered if it pleased her, and when she awoke in the morning she could hardly believe that it had not yet been purchased.

"I'm glad it was just a dream," thought Randy, as she stood before the tiny glass drawing the comb through the curling masses of her light brown hair, "because I've yet the pleasure of choosing the gift and of buying and sending it to her.

"I believe I'll go down to Barnes' store to-day, for now I've made up my mind what to do, I can hardly wait to do it."

It seemed as if everything favored Randy's scheme. The first person whom she saw as she ran out to the well and commenced to lower the bucket was Jotham, whistling as he strode along, deftly cutting the tops from the roadside weeds with a switch.

"Hi, Randy! Let me help you," he said, vaulting lightly over the wall and hastening toward her as she stood smiling in the sunlight.

"You can help in another way to-day, if you will," said Randy. "Come and sit upon the wall while I tell you about it."

"Indeed I will," was the hearty rejoinder. "I've often told you, Randy, that I'd do anything for you."

"Well, this is for me, and for some one else too," said Randy, looking earnestly up into his kind, dark eyes.

"And Jotham," she continued eagerly, "you must not mind if I don't tell you all about it, 'tis truly a good reason why I can't."

"I'll do whatever you wish, Randy," was the reply, "and I won't ask a question."

"Oh, here's Prue coming," said Randy, "and she mustn't hear about it. You meet me at Barnes' store about four o'clock this afternoon and I'll tell you then what I wish you to do."

"All right," said Jotham, "I'll be there on time, you may be sure of that."

"O, Randy," cried little Prue, "what you tellin' Jotham? Tell me too."

"See here, Prue," said Jotham with as serious an expression as he could assume, "I was just telling Randy that I should be at Barnes' store at four o'clock."

"Oh, was that all?" said Prue, "I thought 'twas something great," and her look of disgust at finding the conversation to be upon so ordinary a topic made both Randy and Jotham laugh heartily.

"Well I don't see why you laugh," said Prue, "'twon't be funny to be going down to the store this hot afternoon. I'd rather stay at home with my Tabby cat, and fan her to keep her cool."

Immediately after dinner, little Johnny Buffum appeared in the door-yard and announced that he had come to play with Prue. He wore a blue-checked pinafore, below which could be seen his short snuff-colored trousers and little bare feet. Upon his head jauntily sat a large straw hat with a torn brim through which the sunlight sifted, where it lay, a stripe of gold upon his little freckled nose.

"I'm glad you've come, Johnny," said Prue. "Let's play school."

"All right," agreed Johnny, "I'll be the teacher."

"And I'll play I'm Randy, and Tabby can be me,—you 'member to call her Prue when you speak to her,—and Johnny, this rag doll will be you," said Prue.

"That old doll's a girl," objected Johnny. "I won't let no girl doll be me."

But Prue argued that it would be enough better to be represented by the despised rag doll, than not to be in the school at all, so half convinced, the game began and the two children were so occupied when Randy started for her walk to the Centre, that her little sister quite forgot to coax to be allowed to "go too."

As she trudged along the sunny, dusty road, Randy hummed a merry little tune, her footsteps keeping time to its rhythm and her heart beating faster as she thought of her delightful errand.

Arrived at the store she asked Mr. Barnes to show her the piece of cloth from which her father had bought on the night that he had driven to the Centre.

"Joel!" called Silas Barnes, "show Randy Weston that second piece of cloth from the top, will ye? I've got ter finish opening this barrel o' sugar."

Joel placed the cloth upon the counter, saying,

"Is that the piece ye mean?"

"Yes, that is it," said Randy.

"Didn't yer pa git 'nough?" questioned Joel.

"Oh yes," said Randy, "but I want this for something else. I'll take eight yards."

"Why that's 'nough for a whole gaown," said Joel, but a shade of annoyance passed over Randy's sweet face and as she showed no disposition to explain, the clerk cut off the number of yards with the injured air of one whose kindly interest had been unappreciated.

When the cloth had been made into a neat parcel, Joel looked up and extended his hand for payment, when to his utter astonishment, Randy informed him that she had yet another errand.

"I'll look at some shoes now," she said with quite an air, for this was her first shopping trip and a very happy one.

"Fer yourself, Randy?" asked Joel.

"I wish them to be my size, so I'll try them on," was the answer.

"Well ef they're ter be your size, they're to be yourn, ain't they?" queried Joel, determined if possible to know all about this wild extravagance.

Randy had changed her gold piece for a bill before she left home, well knowing that the bill would attract less attention.

Assuming not to have heard his question, Randy took her parcels, and gave Joel her bill. Joel took the money, but he could not resist the temptation to ask one more question.

"Mebbe ye didn't know that yer pa bought a pair er shoes jest that size t'other night, did ye?"

No one person was ever known to have bought two pairs of shoes and two dresses at Barnes' store within a week, and the clerk was wild with curiosity, but just as he was about to repeat his question, Jotham entered the store, and Joel turned to see what his errand might be.

"Nothing to-day," said Jotham, "I saw Randy in here, and I thought I'd offer to take her bundles."

Together they left the store, and as they turned into the quiet, shady road Randy said,

"I think I never was more glad to see you, Jotham, than when I turned and saw you in the doorway of the store."

"Then I'm doubly glad I came," said Jotham.

"Well, Joel Simpkins thought 'twas the funniest thing that I should be buying something when father was not with me, and he asked just every question that he could think of except one. He didn't ask me where I got my money, and I do believe he would have asked me that if you hadn't come in just when you did."

"O Randy, it's a funny sight to see you provoked," said Jotham with a hearty laugh. "I know that he is an inquisitive fellow.

"You know I've been studying this summer with the young professor who has been boarding at our house, and father has arranged it so that when he returns to teach at the university I shall go back with him, not to the college of course, but as his private pupil. I shall work very hard at my studies and hope another year to enter college.

"Well, father was speaking to Mr. Barnes of my aspirations, and his plans for me, when Joel stepped over to where they stood talking, and said he,

"'Ain't that goin' ter be pooty expensive, Mr. Potts, an' likely ter put kind er high notions inter Jotham's head?'

"Father turned and looked at him, then he said,

"'I'm not likely to incur any bills which I am unable to meet, and as to Jotham's head, I truly believe it is level.'"

They both laughed to think of Joel's discomfiture, and under the shade of overhanging branches they sat down upon a large rock at the side of the road and Randy, turning toward Jotham said,

"There, now I'll tell you what I could not tell this morning, because dear little Prue cannot keep a secret, and you can, and will."

"I'll tell you just one thing more," said Randy

"I will if you wish it, Randy," said Jotham.

"Well then, these parcels are not for me, they are for someone else, and I do not wish her to know where they came from, Jotham, are you willing to go over to the Wilson farm to-night?" asked Randy.

"I'd go to Joppa if you asked it," answered the boy with a laugh.

"Then go to Molly's house after dark, and leave these bundles on the doorstep. Knock loudly, and then run away just far enough so that you will be able to see them taken in, and don't tell anyone about it. It's just a nice little surprise and you and I will keep our secret."

"It's a pleasure that you are planning, of that I am sure," said Jotham.

"I'll tell you just one thing more," said Randy, "Molly Wilson is a nice girl and she will be sixteen to-morrow."

"Oh ho! A birthday gift! Well, I don't wonder you wish it to get there to-night, but if I leave it and run, how will they know that the bundles are for Molly?"

"Oh, I must put her name on the parcels now," said Randy.

Jotham produced a pencil and thinking that Molly might recognize her writing, Randy printed in large letters this legend:

"For Mollie Wilson, from one who loves her."

After viewing her work with satisfaction, Randy said,

"There, now they are all ready, but Jotham," she added a moment later, "what will you do with them between now and twilight?"

"I'll take the packages home, and as you wish no one to know about them, I'll hide them in a safe place in our woodshed. When I start for Molly's house I have to go in the same direction that I would if I were intending to stop at Reuben Jenks' door, so I'll leave the presents at the Wilson's, and stop at Reuben's on the way home; then if I'm known to have been at Reuben's no one will guess that I was running about delivering presents."

So at a bend of the road they parted, Jotham happy in the thought that he had a part in one of Randy's plans, and at the same time doing her bidding, and Randy wondering if Molly's delight when she looked at her gifts would be as great as that which she had herself experienced in sending them.


CHAPTER III