“Evil is wrought by want of thought
As well as by want of heart.”
This sally brought forth a general laugh, which is as good as a barrel of oil for troubled waters.
“Well, ladies, what will you do with the situation—and the barrel?”
“Madam President,”—a lady was recognized who seldom spoke, but always to the point,—“out of the mouth of this barrel we stand convicted of selfish indifference to a cause we are in duty bound to uphold, and of base desertion of those we have sent to the front and have promised, as Christians, to stand by. I move that we send to this family a box, a real one, that shall be worthy of this church and commensurate with their needs.”
There were a dozen seconders.
“I am not sure that they would accept it,” suggested the chair.
“Tell them this was intended for a rummage sale,” came from the right.
“Or the Salvation Army,” from the left.
“Madam President,”—it was the dignified lady whose cheeks had flamed at sight of the opera cloak,—“I feel that I, for one, have been taught a lesson in giving that will last me the rest of my life. I should like to say as much to this brave woman in a note tucked in the pocket of a warm new cloak for herself. I think I can make that acknowledgment so humbly that she will accept the gift.”