"Well, may the Lord bless him, and may he never be cold himself, the good lad!"
The doctor did not speak for a few moments; then he left, promising to send some one to care for the sick woman that night. He drove home very fast, and a strange dimness came into his eyes every now and then, as he thought it all over.
He went to his wife's room, and began, as usual, to tell her all that had happened during the day. When, at last, he came to his visit at the cottage, he watched his wife's face, as he told of the lonely, sick old woman, the warm fire, and the young chopper.
When he had finished, tears were in her eyes, but she only said, "Dear
Jack!"
Jack's queer ways were explained at last. And "Jack's old woman," as they called her, never wanted from this time for any comfort as long as she lived. So, after all, Jack could not feel so very sorry that his kindness, done in secret, had at last "found him out."—The Round Table.
My Missionary Garden
Some money I desired to earn
To send to foreign lands,
So mother took some garden seeds
And placed them in my hands.
Then earnestly I went to work
With spade and rake and hoe;
I planted every seed I had,
And wondered if they'd grow.
It wasn't long before I saw
Some little leaves of green;
I thought they looked more beautiful
Than any I had seen.
Each day when I came home from school,
I to my garden went;
In hoeing and in pulling weeds,
My leisure time I spent.