rmer."
As a rule, Peace's excuses rather amused the mistress of the house, but
this time she looked sternly at the little culprit, and briefly
commanded, "Go to your room and put on your other shoes immediately."
"I haven't got any others."
"No others? What do you mean?"
"I--I--gave mine all away."
"To whom did you give them?" asked the President, who had entered the
room unnoticed.
"To a little girl I met on the hill yesterday. Her toes were sticking
through hers and she looked dreadfully cold, and kept stamping her feet
to keep them from freezing."
The President swallowed a lump in his throat.
"She did not need _two_ pair to keep her feet warm, did she?"
"She was twins."
"Wh-at?"
Peace jumped. "Well, she said she had a sister just her same age at
home, who hadn't any shoes at all."
He took her by the hand, led her to her room, and after seeing that the
wet shoes and stockings were replaced with dry ones, he lectured her
kindly about giving away her belongings in such a promiscuous manner
without first consulting her elders. And having won her promise for
future good behavior, he went down town to purchase new shoes for the
shoeless culprit, satisfied that Peace would remember his words of
caution, and that they should not again be disturbed by the too generous
acts of this zealous little home missionary.
And Peace did remember for a long time, but one day when the two younger
children had been left alone with the servants, temptation again invaded
this little Garden of Eden, and the brown-haired Eve yielded.
It was late in the afternoon and Peace and Allee were standing by the
window watching the sinking sun, when a ragged, stooped, old man trailed
down the quiet street with a battered, wheezy, old hand-organ strapped
to his back and a wizened, wistful-eyed, peaked-faced child at his
heels. Seeing the two bright faces in the window and concluding that
money was plentiful in that home, the vagabond slipped the organ from
its supports, and began grinding out a discordant tune from the
protesting instrument, sending the ragged, weary, little girl to the
door with her tin cup for contributions.
Peace saw her approaching, and opened the door before she had a chance
to ring the bell, surprising the tiny ragamuffin so completely that she
could only stand and mutely hold out her appealing dipper, having
forgotten entirely the words she had been taught to speak on such
occasions.
"You're c
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