It is so sweet to drop little acts of kindness as we pass along our daily round. They may fall seemingly into the ground, but God knows that not one of them ever fails to do its own bright work somewhere for some one.
Kate Hallock went home with the empty basket, wondering what she should do with herself all the June afternoon. She thought that she would go past the field where Frank was at work and on down the lane leading to the sea. It would be nice and cool down there, and maybe she could dig some clams with her own hands, just enough for Frank’s supper. Kate was quite certain that he would be hungry, so hungry that he would have to eat, by tea time.
When she went to find her mother, that lady was engaged in conversation with the strange gentleman. Kate overheard him say, “You must be extremely sorry to part with this place,” and she did not hear her mother’s reply.
“Part with this place?” thought Kate. “How funny that sounded! What did he mean, I wonder?”
But Kate soon forgot all about it, for the Glenns came for her to go to the circus with them. There were Mr. Glenn, Florence, Will, and Stacey. In vain Kate pleaded that she had used her money for something else. She was carried off in spite of herself, and so lost her pleasant time down by the sea. She went with tears close to her eyes and many a dim look back at the figure of her brother, toiling away in the field.
Mrs. Hallock also watched her boy with many misgivings. She knew the history of Kate’s endeavor, and quite approved of the disposition she had made of the contents of the basket.
Four of the clock came. The strange gentleman had taken his departure for that day. Frank had borne his martyrdom long enough. He could endure the terrible gnawing in his stomach no longer; so he dropped his hoe, and made his way to the house and the kitchen, and asked the cook for “something to eat.” “I’ll have it right here on your table,” he said; “some bread and milk, if you’ve nothing more.”
Frank’s manner and whole appearance was so wonderfully subdued, that the cook was impressed by it to bring forth her best stores for the tired boy.
“What’s the matter, Master Frank? What ails you, that you can’t eat a single morsel?” she cried: for Frank sat before the little dinner, and did not touch it.
“I don’t know,” said Frank; “I—I—can’t half see it!” and rising up, poor Frank tried to get from the kitchen to his mother.