d, are so sweet and comfortable, that no one can
fail to feel their beauty and love the giver, no matter how small they
are. Mothers do a deal of this sort of thing, unseen, unthanked, but
felt and remembered long afterward, and never lost, for this is the
simple magic that binds hearts together, and keeps home happy. Polly had
learned this secret.

She loved to do the "little things" that others did not see, or were too
busy to stop for; and while doing them, without a thought of thanks, she
made sunshine for herself as well as others. There was so much love
in her own home, that she quickly felt the want of it in Fanny's, and
puzzled herself to find out why these people were not kind and patient
to one another. She did not try to settle the question, but did her
best to love and serve and bear with each, and the good will, the gentle
heart, the helpful ways and simple manners of our Polly made her dear
to every one, for these virtues, even in a little child, are lovely and
attractive.

Mr. Shaw was very kind to her, for he liked her modest, respectful
manners; and Polly was so grateful for his many favors, that she soon
forgot her fear, and showed her affection in all sorts of confiding
little ways, which pleased him extremely. She used to walk across the
park with him when he went to his office in the morning, talking busily
all the way, and saying "Good-by" with a nod and a smile when they
parted at the great gate. At first, Mr. Shaw did not care much about
it; but soon he missed her if she did not come, and found that
something fresh and pleasant seemed to brighten all his day, if a small,
gray-coated figure, with an intelligent face, a merry voice, and a
little hand slipped confidingly into his, went with him through the
wintry park. Coming home late, he liked to see a curly, brown head
watching at the window; to find his slippers ready, his paper in its
place, and a pair of willing feet, eager to wait upon him. "I wish my
Fanny was more like her," he often said to himself, as he watched the
girls, while they thought him deep in politics or the state of the money
market. Poor Mr. Shaw had been so busy getting rich, that he had not
found time to teach his children to love him; he was more at leisure
now, and as his boy and girls grew up, he missed something. Polly was
unconsciously showing him what it was, and making child-love so sweet,
that he felt he could not do without it any more, yet did n't quite
know how