"You see that old woman?" said he to a comrade one day. "Don't look much like an angel, does she?"
His friend, glancing at the queer figure and plain, ordinary features, was amused at the comparison.
"And yet," continued Tom, earnestly, "she proved a second Guardian
Angel to me once, and I'll bless her all my life for it."
"BETTER THAN RICHES."
I.
"Cash! Cash! here!" cried an attendant at the stationery counter of one of New York's great shopping emporiums. At the summons a delicate-looking little girl came wearily up, and held out a small wicker basket for the goods and the money. "Be quick now: the lady's in a hurry."
Notwithstanding the injunction, the child started off with no special attempt at haste. The same words were dinned into her ears a hundred times a day. She did not see why ladies should be in a hurry. The ladies of her world seemed to have nothing to do but to wear pretty clothes, and to shop, which meant principally the buying of more pretty clothes. It was all very well to make an extra effort to oblige one occasionally; but if she did it every time she was exhorted to, surely her tired feet would give out before the end of the day.
"Cash is so poky!" complained the salesgirl to her companion behind the counter.
"Hie you, Cash! Hustle I say!" called the floor-walker peremptorily, as he passed.
Thus warned, the child skurried away, and reappeared after a very brief interval. As she rushed up with the parcel, an awkward accident occurred. The lady heedlessly stepped backward. Cash dodged; but, alas! before she could stop herself, she had dashed into a pyramid of note-paper that stood upon the end of the counter, and sent the boxes scattering over the floor in dire confusion.