CHAPTER XXVII.

DOING AND GETTING GOOD--WYCOFF'S REFORM.

The day was mild and spring-like, and Daddy had not been long gone,
when the snow began to yield to the soft touches of the sun's bright
rays.

Fanny stood by the window and sighed, and wished audibly that the sun
would "put on a veil."

The wish and manner so entirely foreign to the child's naturally
cheerful and contented disposition attracted Little Wolf's attention.

"Why Fanny, do you complain of this lovely day?" she said, in
surprise.

"O no, Miss DeWolf, but I was afraid the snow would all melt away
before my sled was mended, and I love so much to be out of doors
coasting."

"How would you like to take a walk with me?" said Little Wolf, willing
to amuse the child, for whom she had already conceived a warm
affection.

"O I would like it ever so much," said Fanny, joyfully.

"Now where shall we go, Fanny?" said Little Wolf, as they started out.

"Why, I don't know," said Fanny hesitatingly; "when mamma used to take
me out, she said we must go somewhere where we could do good.
Sometimes we went over to old Mrs. Peters'; she is sick all the time,
and has no one to help her except her grandson, Charley. Mamma used to
make her bed, and read the bible and pray with her, and comfort her
all she could. Poor mamma often wished she could carry her something
nice to eat, but we hadn't hardly anything to eat ourselves. May be
you wouldn't like to go there, though?" said Fanny, doubtfully.

Little Wolf hesitated.

"She used to know your mamma," said Fanny, "and she said that Mrs.
DeWolf was one of the kindest friends she ever had."

"We will go there, Fanny," said Little Wolf decidedly

Their way lay over the very hill where occurred their disastrous
collision with Mr. Wycoff; about half a mile from the foot of which,
on a cross road, lived Mrs. Peters. Fanny ran joyously on before,
occasionally turning back to call Little Wolf's attention to a
squirrel, or a bird, never dreaming that her companion was less
interested than herself. In this way they reached the top of the hill,
and began the descent, when suddenly Fanny began to look grave and
loiter beside Little Wolf. At length she spoke in a subdued whisper,
"There lies poor Fleet Foot, Miss DeWolf; he will never breathe
again."

Little Wolf sank upon a rock by the wayside, and hid her face in her
hands. She thought and said aloud, "O, why was I spared to be so
wretched?"

Fanny b