ur holy religion. As the
weeks went by my friendship for Mrs. Blake strengthened. I kept her
little cottage brightened with the old-fashioned blossoms that she loved
best. "They mind me so of when I was a child, and the whole world seemed
in summer time like a great garden. We lived deep in the country, just a
little strip of ground brought in from the woods, and all round our
little log house was the green trees," she said one day, the pleasant
reflective look that I liked to see coming into her kind, strong face. I
used to sit and listen to her homely, uncultivated speech, and wonder why
I liked her so much better than my natural associates. She was so real, I
could not imagine her trying to appear other than she was. Some way she
seemed to take me back to elementary things, like the memories of
childhood or the reading of the Book of Genesis. Then she had so changed
Daniel's cottage--newly papered, whitewashed and thoroughly cleansed with
soap and water, it seemed one of the cosiest, homeliest places I ever
saw. I only went in the afternoons, and her housework then was always
done; but she was never idle. I used to watch her knitting stockings of
all sizes with silent curiosity; but one day I asked who a tiny pair of
scarlet ones was for. "Mrs. Larkum's baby. The poor things are in
desperate trouble," she replied.

"But do you knit for other folks?"

"Yes, fur some. Them I jest finished is fur one of the Chisties' down the
lane. Any size from one to ten fits there."

"Are they able to pay you?" I ventured to inquire.

"I don't ginerally knit for folks as can pay. It's a pity for little feet
to go bare because the mother was thriftless or overworked."

I watched the busy fingers a little sadly, comparing them with my own
daintily gloved hands, that had never done anything more useful than to
hold a text book, or sketch, or practice on the ivory keys, while those
other hands often tired, calloused with hard usage, had been working
unselfishly through the years for others.

"I wish you would teach me to knit," I said one day, seized with a sudden
inspiration.

"'Twould be a waste of your time. Folks like you don't wear home-knit
stockings."

"Oh, yes they do. Pretty silken hose is quite the fashion; but I hire
mine knitted."

"Then what makes you want to learn?"

"Do you not think it is my duty to work for the poor, and helpless as
well as yours?"

"I won't allow but what it is; but laws! rich folk can't p