with snow and her window sills quite filled up with it
already. She had meant to take a walk down town to make a purchase she
had determined on; and her first thought was, how bad the walking would
be now, after the dry clean streets they had rejoiced in for a week or
two past. The next thought was, that the street sweepers would be out.
For some time she had not seen them. They would be out in force to-day.
Matilda had pennies ready; she was quite determined on the propriety of
that; and she thought besides that a kind word or two might be given
where she had a chance. "I am sure Jesus would speak to them," she said
to herself. "He would try to do them good. I wonder, can I? But I can
_try_."

She had the opportunity even sooner than she expected; for while she
was eating her breakfast the snow stopped and the sun came out. So
about eleven o'clock she made ready and set forth. There was a very
convenient little pocket on the outside of her grey pelisse, in which
she could bestow her pennies. Matilda put eleven coppers there, all she
had, and one silver dime. What she was to do with that she did not
know; but she thought she would have it ready.

Clear, bright and beautiful, the day was; not cold; and the city all
for the moment whitened by the new fall of snow. So she thought at
first; but Matilda soon found there was no whitening New York. The
roadway was cut up and dirty, of course; and the multitudes of feet
abroad dragged the dirt upon the sidewalks. However, the sky was blue;
and defilement could not reach the sunlight; so she went along happy.
But before she got to Fourteenth Street, nine of her eleven pennies
were gone. Some timid words had gone with them too, sometimes; and
Matilda had seen the look of dull asking change to surprise and take on
a gleam of life in more than one instance; that was all that could be
said. Two boys had assured her they went to Sunday school; one or two
others of whom she had asked the question had not seemed to understand
her. Had it done any good? She could not tell; how could she tell?
Perhaps her look and her words and her penny, all together, might have
brought a bit of cheer into lives as much trampled into the dirt as the
very snow they swept. Perhaps; and _that_ was worth working for;
"anyhow, all I can do, is all I can do," thought Matilda. She mused too
on the swift way money has of disappearing in New York. Norton's
watchguard had cost twenty eight cents; the obelisk, t