from the flowers. You see
I raise them myself, mostly."

"But do you get enough for clothes and playthings, and do you always
have enough to eat?" persisted Nell.

"_I_ don't have any clothes, I make over mother's. We have Kitty for
playthings. Enough to eat? _Baby_ always has enough, don't she,
lovie?" cuddling her up close.

A new world was opening up to Nell.

"Excuse me, but don't you have any pleasure trips, or birthday
parties, or Christmas?"

"No; I don't just know what those things are, but we have nice beef
and apples for dinner on Christmas."

"And are you always happy as you seem--really happy?"

The "little mother" opened her eyes wide in wonder. "Why, _of course_.
What else should we be? Mother always told us it was wicked to be
cross, and that we must not fret much, even over her going away to
heaven."

Nell did some hard thinking on her way home, and being a sensible
little girl, she made up her mind that one way to be happy is to be
_busy_, and not only busy, but useful, and she set about the new way
in earnest.

She learned that it is possible to be unselfish and happy _any where_;
she in her wealthy home, and the "little mother" in her one room, with
her baby and her flowers.

LITTLE SCATTER.

MRS. JEANE A. WARD.

She was her mother's darling, and a very good little girl in most
things. With her yellow hair, big blue eyes and rosy cheeks; in the
pretty blue dress and red sash; nice little slippers on her plump
feet, she made the whole house lively and bright, and sometimes she
made plenty of work for every one in it, too, for she was a terrible
Nelly to scatter playthings. The dolly would be on the chair, her torn
picture-books over the floor, her ball kicking about everywhere, and
her blocks any where.

What could mother do with such a girl? When she would talk to her,
Nelly would promise not to do so any more, and would pick up the dolly
and the pictures, and the ball and the blocks, and her other toys, and
take them to her own corner play-house and fix them all in order, and
be real good for a little while.

But the 'real good' would last only a little while and then out all
would come again, and Little Scatter would have them around just as
before.

That is the way she came to be given that name, and she was old enough
to know she well deserved it, and to be ashamed of it; yet she could
not break off the bad habit.

She had a kind, good mother, who saw that she woul