aid when she came home from Mrs. Kump's this morning. The old lady
lives all alone. She makes a living by doing odd jobs, so Mother
wanted to get her to do some quilting. She does it beautifully, in an
old-fashioned way that few understand now-a-days. When Mother got
there she found her going round doing her work on her hands and
knees--her feet were too sore to walk on. She told Mother she had been
that way for a week. She was glad of the quilting, not having been
able to do any other kind of work for some time. Mother was afraid she
might be in actual want, but she didn't dare say a word for fear of
offending her. Mrs. Kump happened to remark that Thursday, the day
after to-morrow, is her birthday, and hearing that, just after reading
about the birthday party, made me think of the Happy-Go-Luckys' 'Be
kind' clause. So, girls, what do you think?" Laura turned to them a
shining, expectant countenance.

"That we might set some birds a-flying straight to the poor old lady,"
was Alene's prompt reply.

"Yes, the birds will be the best in this case as it is rather quick
time for flower seeds to take root and bloom," remarked Ivy.

"But these are a kind of magic flowers that spring up in a single
night," said Alene.

"And who knows, some of them may turn out regular century plants. I
read a poem not long ago, about a pebble cast upon the beach, that sent
out ripples to the farther shore, which I suppose means that sometimes
our smallest action may have a far reaching influence," said Ivy, who
reclined on the grass, with her eyes fixed dreamily on the blue expanse
of sky that stretched across the river and met the dark blue line of
hills beyond.

"Come down out of the clouds! We have work to do and precious little
time for its doing," cried Laura, giving her a shaking. She sat up
laughing.

"Sounds like a sermon on the shortness of time! What's time to us
children of eternity? But what shall we give to poor old Mrs. Kump?"

"That's the question," said Laura, glad to have arrived at something
practical, a matter she often found rather difficult with Ivy. "Mother
has promised a loaf of bread."

"And I'll ask Mother to give some rolls--but that's bread too; sounds
so dry--I hate dry bread!"

"Kizzie always gives me a dish of honey for breakfast. I'll ask her
for some of it, and Mrs. Major gets the loveliest little pats of butter
from the country, marked with a dear little cow--I'm sure she will give
m