A sweet, kind smile will not impov'rish thee,
Or make thy heart less light and free;
Me from my grief 'twill part awhile,
From sadness and despair beguile.
CHARITY ENVIETH NOT.
BY ALICE B. NEAL.
"You don't say so!"
"True as the Gospel, Miss Snelling. That velvet cloak of hers—she calls it a Talma—cost every cent of twenty-five dollars. Then there's her bonnet—that came from New York, too; Miss Dunn's work ain't good enough for her of late years. Well, that bonnet couldn't be bought for less'n eight dollars. Why, the ribbon must be four and six a yard, not to speak of the feathers. Then there's that new plaid silk, you know, and that French merino; neither of 'em less'n twelve shillings, and that's the way she dresses. Time was when she was glad enough to get me to sew for her. I've had her beg, and beg, and beseech me to give her a day, or even half a day, in my spring hurry; and now she's got a seamstress, as she calls that stuck-up girl, that sets in the settin'-room all day. She makes the children's clothes, and her'n are cut and fixed in New York, when they ain't made there."