THEY were sitting in the window-seat, Magdalene and Mabel, busy with their work, and talking. “The Mission Band meets this week, you know,” said Mabel.
“I know it,” Magdalene said, with a scowl on her face; “I’ve got to go, I suppose, but I don’t want to a bit; I haven’t any money to spare to give; I’m not going to give but a cent, anyhow, I just can’t afford it. Isn’t this blue silk sash lovely, Mabel? It just fits my dollie’s eyes. It was horridly expensive; I had to give twenty cents just for this little piece.”
“Nell is going to Mission Band,” said that small woman from the carpet, where she played with her dollie. “Nell knows all about it; mamma told her. Nell doesn’t want to be a selfish little girl and not give to the heathens; Nell is going to give her bestest thing.”
Magdalene nudged her friend’s elbow to call attention to what her darling little sister was saying, and the two listened.
“What are you going to give, Pet?” asked Magdalene at last, as the baby voice ceased its talking.
The little girl looked up with surprised eyes; she had not supposed anybody was paying attention to her.
“What are you going to give to the Mission Band for the heathens?”
“I’m going to give my bestest thing,” said the baby, with sweet gravity; “I shall give my wubber dollie, that I love.”
Mabel laughed, but Magdalene looked sober. Nobody understood better than she how the “wubber dollie” was loved, and she knew that Baby Nell meant what she said.