Effie Maurice | Page 4

was extremely cold, but clear
and still, and altogether as beautiful as any day in the whole year. Effie
in cloak, hood, and muff, seemed the very picture of comfort as she
walked along beside her brother in his equally warm attire, towards Mr
T.'s shop.
'Are you cold? What makes you shiver so?' inquired Harry. Effie did
not answer, but she drew her hand from her muff and pointed with her
gloved finger to a little girl who stood a few yards from her, stamping
her feet, and clapping her red bare hands, and then curling them under
her arms as if to gain a little warmth from thence. 'Poor thing!' said
Harry, 'I should think she would freeze, with nothing but that old rag of
a handkerchief about her shoulders, and that torn muslin bonnet. I don't
wonder you shivered, Effie, it makes me cold to look at her.'
'Let us see if she wants anything,' said Effie.
By this time the attention of the little girl was attracted by the children's
conversation and glances, and she came running towards them, crying
at every step, 'Give me a sixpence, please?'
'We have no money, not even a penny,' said Harry, 'are you very
hungry?' The girl began to tell how long it was since she had had
anything to eat, but she talked so hurriedly, and used so many queer
words, that the two children found it very difficult to understand her.

'She is in want, no doubt,' whispered Harry to his sister, 'but father
would say, it was best to give her food and clothing, not money.'
'I wish I had a sixpence, though,' said Effie.
The wealthy and the gay, the poor and the apparently miserable, went
pouring by in crowds, and some did not hear the beggar-child's plea,
others that heard did not heed it, while many paused from idle curiosity
to gaze at her, and a few flung her a penny, and passed on. Harry and
Effie too went on, frequently looking back and forming little plans for
the good of the child, until their attention was attracted by other objects
of compassion or admiration. Sleighs were continually dashing past
them, drawn by beautiful horses, and filled with the forms of the young,
the gay, and the happy. Old men, bowed down by the weight of years,
hobbled along on the pavements, their thin blue lips distorted by a
smile--a smile of welcome to the year that, perhaps, before its departure,
would see them laid in the grave--and busy tradesmen, with faces
strongly marked by care, or avarice, or anxiety, jostled by them; ladies
too, in gay hats and large rich shawls, or the more comfort-seeking in
cloaks and muffs; and poor women, with their tattered clothing drawn
closely around their shrinking forms, were hurrying forward apparently
with the same intent. Every variety of the human species seemed
crowded on those narrow pavements.
Harry and Effie were only a few rods from Mr T.'s door, when Mr
Maurice overtook them, on his way to some other part of the city. He
smiled, as he always did, on his children, then putting a few pence into
Effie's hand, whispered something about 'temptation money,' and
passed on.
'I shan't be tempted, though,' said the child, holding the coin before her
brother's eyes.
'No, Effie,' replied the boy, 'it isn't wrong to spend this money for
yourself, so you can't be tempted to do wrong with it. This is every
body's day for pleasure, and you ought to enjoy it.'
'I have enjoyed it,' said Effie, looking upon her brother smilingly, 'and I

guess somebody else has helped me.'
'I guess so, too,' was the reply, 'I think we have been a great deal
happier than if we had come here in the morning.'
Children though they were, they were demonstrating the words of the
Lord Jesus, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'
Mr T.'s shop was crowded to overflowing with children, a few grown
people intermingling: and every one, from the errand boy, that, with his
hard-earned pittance in his hand, was estimating the amount of good
things it would purchase, to the child of the wealthy merchant,
murmuring because the waxen doll she contemplated adding to her
store, was not in every respect formed to suit her difficult taste, seemed
intent on pleasure.
Harry and Effie were as much pleased as any one, and some, who had
seen with what readiness they had parted with their money in the
morning, would have wondered at their taste for toys; but these
children had one talent which a great many grown people as well as
children would do well to imitate. It was not absolutely necessary that
they should possess a thing in order to enjoy