For herself she could endure poverty and not mind it. She did not need or care for fine clothes, but she could not bear that the woman who was once her lovely owner should be in reduced circumstances.
When death came for “Mother Amy” after all the hard years of labor, she left five hundred dollars, which she had struggled all the years to save, to Mrs. Payne, her widowed mistress.
One does not have to look in elegant mansions, or among the educated only, for the noble virtues of self-sacrifice. No character is fine or beautiful without it. “Mother Amy” left a name and example worthy to be remembered.
LIKE OUR NEIGHBORS.
“WE MUST have a party,” said Mrs. Morris to her husband. “I am under obligations to Mrs. Raymond and Mrs. Nichols, and to no end of ladies who have invited me to their homes.”
“I don’t see how we can afford it, wife, for times are hard. I haven’t made a cent, scarcely, in business during the past year.”
“Well, it will never do to let people know that we are straitened. That would hurt your business. Besides, the children are coming on; and I must keep in society for their sakes. I don’t want to have a party in a niggardly way, either. We must have the house fixed up to look as well as our neighbors’, and I must have my last silk dress made over in the present style.”
Mr. Morris sighed, for he found life a struggle. If he had spent money for tobacco, clubs, and the like, there might have been some excuse for Mrs. Morris’s lack of economy; but he was careful and saving, and, had his wife been of a similar disposition, they would have been in easy circumstances. As it was, people wondered why she dressed so well, and commented upon it; but she thought they admired her good looks and fine appearance. The world, after all, is fairly sensible, and usually knows better than we think whether people can afford fine houses and fine clothes. There is seldom any great amount of deception.