on the tattered frock, which her mother never
took the trouble to mend, and which she, poor child, could not,
except in the most bungling fashion.

Lucy walked home thoughtfully, and, as the fruit of her meditation, a
print dress of her own was next morning produced, and a consultation
was held with her aunt as to the practicability of altering it to fit
Nelly. "I only wonder I didn't think of it before," she said, "for she
is always so miserably dressed. Will you help me to make it up,
Stella?"

"My dear, I wouldn't know how! The most I ever sewed in my life was to
hem a pocket-handkerchief."

Mrs. Steele looked shocked at such deficiency in what she rightly
considered a most important part of female education. She had always
taken care that Lucy should spare enough time from her more congenial
studies, to learn at least to sew neatly.

"Why, Stella!" Lucy exclaimed, "you're almost as bad as poor Nelly,
who said she had never learned to sew because 'nobody had teached
her.'"

"I've never had time to learn. I like embroidery better; and mamma
said we should never need to do plain sewing, so she didn't see the
use of our taking up our time with it."

"No one knows what she may have to do," remarked Mrs. Steele gently.
"It is always best to know how, at any rate."

"Well, I hope I shall never have to, for I should hate it!"

However, when Lucy was fairly at work on the little frock, Stella
good-naturedly offered to help her a little, though, never having been
trained to perseverance in anything, her assistance was not very
efficient.

Bessie Ford had gone home from Sunday school with her head turned by
hearing some foolish talk about her dress. Alas! how often it is that
Sunday scholars, on leaving the school, instead of giving one thought
to the divine truths they have been hearing, allow their attention to
be absorbed with the petty frivolities in which their thoughts run
wild!

"Mother," said Bessie, after she had duly announced the intended
picnic, "can't I have a new pink sash for my white frock? Nancy Parker
is going to have ever so many new things."

"No, child," said her mother, "you don't need a new sash. Your frock
looks quite well enough without one. But I've been thinking you'd be
the better of a new hat, for the one you have looks a little brown.
And as you've been a pretty good girl, and a deal less forgetful of
late, I wouldn't mind getting you a new hat, if you'll hurry and
finish up that