By the Roadside | Page 4

right," said the Dream. "It is a good thing to make every
step that you take, do work that will help some one some time."
Presently they came to a cross-roads, and Marjorie hesitated for a
moment to see which way to turn; and then she noticed that the wind
had blown one of the sign-boards from off its post, and that it lay,
face-downward, in the road, covered with mud. Taking it up, she went
to the little brook by the wayside and washed it carefully; and then,
holding it as high as she could reach, she fastened it to the post, by
pounding in the loosened nails with a stone. This had all taken some
time, and when she had finished, she stepped back to view her work,
wearing an expression of extreme complacence, which quickly changed
to one of vexation, as she discovered that she had nailed the sign up
side down, so that not only were the words inverted; but it pointed in
the wrong direction.
"Oh, dear, see what I've done!" she cried.
"How did you happen to do that?" asked the Dream, looking interested.
"It was just because that little girl over there kept calling and calling to
me. I tried not to hear, at first, but she worried me until I didn't know
what I was about."
"What was the matter with her?" asked the Dream.
"Oh, she had got her dress caught on the fence when she was climbing
over, and spilled some apples or something out of a basket. There, see
how she's torn her dress! It's her own fault! I told her to wait until I got
through, and I would help her;--but I was too busy then."
"You told her to wait where? On the fence?"
"Oh, well, I couldn't help it,--it wasn't my fault that she caught her
dress, she ought to have been more careful,--and, anyway, I had to nail
the sign-board,--that was much more important, wasn't it?"
The Dream turned and looked at the sign-board critically. "Yes," he

said, "I suppose it did have to be done in a hurry,--sign-boards don't
'keep' very well."
Marjorie flushed. "But some one might have come along who wanted
to know the way."
"Yes," assented the Dream, dryly, "it would have been too bad if some
one had come along before you got it put up--that way."
Marjorie's head drooped.
"As far as I can see," went on the Dream, "the only way to read that
sign is to turn it 'tother end to,' in your mind."
"Yes," said Marjorie, in a very low voice.
"And how do you like to go on record as standing for a sign that
reads:--'If you want to go right, don't follow me?'"
Marjorie's lip was quivering. "I'll take it down," she said, and began to
pull upon the board, but it was of no use; for she had driven in the nails
so tightly that she could not start them. Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh,
what shall I do?" she sobbed. "I can't bear to go away and leave it like
that!"
"I suppose that you see your mistake," said the Dream.
"Yes, yes, I know," sobbed Marjorie. "I ought to have stopped and
helped the little girl,--I could have set up the sign at the foot of the post
while I did it;--but I was interested in what I was doing, and didn't want
to be bothered."
Just then the little girl came across the road, carrying the basket of
apples which she had picked up, the long rent in her frock gathered
together in her hand. "What is the matter?" she asked, looking at
Marjorie's wet cheeks.
Marjorie pointed miserably to the sign.

"Oh," said the little girl, "you've made a mistake, haven't you! Let's fix
it right."
"We can't," said Marjorie. "I can't get the board off."
"Perhaps both of us, together, can," said the little girl. "Come, let's both
pull at once," and setting down her basket, she took a firm hold of the
sign. And so Marjorie took hold again, and with much pulling and
tugging, together, they soon had it off; and then, together, they nailed it
back in place,--right.
When it was done, they stepped back to look at it, breathless and proud.
Marjorie's hand crept into that of the little girl. "How good you are to
help me," she said softly, "when I had been so unkind to you."
"It was my work, too," said the little girl, "and I was glad to do it;--and
you were busy when I called to you."
"I was selfish," said Marjorie; "but I am sorry. Mayn't I help you to fix
your dress? I have pins, and it is hard for you to walk with it that way;
for