n't
mine, for when I pay two cents a pound for old rags I do not buy fifty
dollar bills. Take it, and be just as happy with it as a thankful heart
can make you. Good-morning; I must hurry home to dinner."[1]

A gladder little girl than Katie Robertson it would be hard to find. The
love of money is said to be the root of all evil, and so money itself
sometimes is, but that is according to how it is gotten and how used.

This bill would have been a root of bitter evil to the girl had she kept
it, in spite of an enlightened conscience, which told her to give it up;
and it would have been a root of evil to the young man, had he taken it,
as by the letter of the law he had an undoubted right to do, when he
knew the little girl needed it so much more than he did. As it was, it
was a seed of joy to both of them. Mr. James went home full of the joy
which is so like to Christ's joy, in having been kind to another at his
own expense; and Katie's heart could hardly hold the glad thankfulness,
both to him and to her heavenly Father, that filled it to overflowing,
and that was all the gladder because it was rooted in an approving
conscience, at peace with itself and at peace with God.

The precious piece of paper was displayed to the wondering mother and
brothers at the dinner-table that day. The story, or so much of it as
Katie could bring herself to relate, was told, and all enjoyed in
anticipation the comforts it was able to procure; but the best thing it
accomplished was to teach its finder where to go in time of perplexity
and temptation and in whose strength to be "more than conqueror."

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[Footnote 1: 1 This whole occurrence is a positive fact.]

CHAPTER VIII.

TEMPLES.

It was a lovely June Sunday. The seats of Squantown Sunday-school were
even more crowded than usual; the girls' side looking like a flower-bed
in its variety and brilliancy of color. Bertie Sanderson was there in
her new silk,--a brilliant cardinal,--looking strangely unsuitable to
the season; Gretchen, the German, in her woolen petticoat and jacket,
which she had not been long enough in the country to discard for summer
attire; the other girls in spring suits, and Katie Robertson in a lovely
pale-blue lawn and a white straw hat trimmed with the same color. It was
the prettiest costume the little girl had ever possessed, and as it was
all bought with her own earnings she may be pardoned for being very much
pleased with it. And yet it was a