Dilly. But I do mind what Harry says. Harry’s my father and mother and brother all in one. I’m sure I shouldn’t know what to do without Harry.
Mrs. L. You have great cause to love him, for to Harry you owe all you have.
Dilly. Yes: he found me a little bit of a girl in the streets, and brought me home. Don’t I love him for it, though? He calls me such queer names! Don’t you think, auntie, this morning, he called me “Little Bread upon the Waters.” What a queer name! I’m sure I don’t know what it means.
Mrs. L. I’ll tell you, Dilly. Nine years ago, the night before you were brought here, Dr. Harlem, Harry, and myself were sitting in this very room. The doctor, as usual, was reading from the Scriptures before retiring for the night. During the reading, this sentence attracted Harry’s attention, “Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days.” Harry looked up with his bright eyes. “That’s a queer sentence, father,” said he. “Ah, my boy!” said the doctor, “there’s many sentences in this book to puzzle young heads like yours, and many to puzzle older ones than mine. ‘Cast thy bread upon the waters’ means, do all the good you can in this world, never looking for reward; for it will always come, sooner or later. Do a good deed, be it to benefit rich or poor, high or low; for your reward will surely come.” The next morning, Harry drove his father to the village at a very early hour, as the doctor was going a journey, and wanted to catch a train. On his return, he saw a little bundle of rags by the way-side. He alighted, and was surprised to find a little girl four or five years old, almost dead,—a poor little sick, suffering thing, evidently left to die by some inhuman mother.
Dilly. That was me, wasn’t it, auntie?
Mrs. L. That was you. Harry looked at you, and was about to turn away, when he remembered the lesson of the previous night. “Father says, ‘Cast thy bread upon the waters,’” said he; “so this little one shall go home with me.” The doctor was very much surprised on his return, and very much inclined to send you to the poorhouse; but Harry begged so hard to keep you, that he relented, and here you have been ever since.
Dilly. That’s why Harry called me, “Bread upon the Waters.” I wonder if such a little crumb as I am can ever repay him.
Mrs. L. No doubt, Dilly.
Dilly. Perhaps I shall turn out to be some rich heiress, that some cruel uncle wanted to get out of the way. If I do, won’t I make Harry rich!
Mrs. L. There’s not much chance of that. No clew could be found to your parentage.