A few evenings after the last story had been read, the little mother drew from her pocket quite a thick roll of paper, saying: "Here is something from Aunt Fanny, with a proposal that will surprise you."
"What can it be?" cried the children with eagerness.
"She wants you to act a play."
"We act a play! Who ever heard of such a thing?"
"Yes; she has partly written, partly translated a little play, and here is her letter with it."
"My Darling Children;
"Don't you wish, you could get on faster than ever with your mittens? Well, here, is a plan that came into my head a few days ago, and I have been arranging it very industriously.
"You must go right to work to learn the parts in this little play. I do not approve of some parts of it, because a deceit was practised to bring one of the boys to a sense of his selfish and undutiful conduct. This was 'doing evil that good may come,' and was very wrong. If your mother were to punish you by deceiving you, you would doubt her ever after; and for a child to doubt a parent is, I should think, one of the most miserable feelings in the world.
"With this very important exception, the little play is pretty good. And this is what your mother and I will do: When you are perfect in your parts, we will have a private rehearsal. Then we will invite about fifty of our friends to witness this elegant entertainment, for which they must pay one pair of mittens apiece for the brave soldiers. We will give them one week to make them, which will be abundance of time; and I have no doubt but what they will think it very cheap pay for so much pleasure."