Effie Maurice | Page 6

woman lived, but it was a great
distance, and he was too considerate to leave his sister alone. Harry was
not one of those philanthropists who, in doing a great amount of good,
become blind to trifles; for his father had taught him, that duties never
interfere with each other, and he knew that he owed Effie every care
and attention. I have often observed that those children, who are the
most kind and considerate to brothers and sisters, always shew more
justice and generosity to others, than those who think such attentions of
but little importance.
Harry found out but little more of the woman, than that she was poor,
and sick, and friendless. Her baby too, her only comfort, was wasting
away before her eyes, whether of disease or for lack of food, she did
not tell, and there was none to help her.
'We will speak to father about her,' said Harry, as they proceeded
homeward, 'perhaps he can do something for them,--it is a sweet little
baby, Effie, with a skin clear and white, and eyes--oh, you never saw
such eyes! they look so soft and loving, that you would think the poor
thing knew every word you said, and how I pitied it. I could hardly help
crying, Effie.'
'I am glad you followed the poor woman.'
'So am I. But Effie, you don't know how vexed I was with that selfish
little miss, that bought the rocking-chair.'
'Harry!'
'Now, don't go to taking her part, Effie, it will do no good, I can tell
you; she is the most selfish and unfeeling little girl that I ever saw.
Because the woman wore an old bonnet, she couldn't help her--only
think of that! how mean!'

'She--O Harry! now I know what mother meant when she talked to me
so much about having charity for people, and told me that we could not
always judge the heart by the actions. I thought as badly of her as you
at first, but I'm sure now she is not unfeeling.'
'Well, if she has any feeling, I should like to see her shew it, that's all. I
tell you, Effie, if anybody ever made a god of self, it is that little girl
we saw to-night. She thought her gratification of more consequence
than that poor baby's life.'
'No, Harry, she is one of the thoughtless ones mother tells us so much
about. If you had seen her when she gave me this money,' putting the
silver piece into her brother's hand, 'you would never call her
unfeeling.'
'Did you tease her for it?'
'No, I didn't ask her again, for I did feel a little vexed--yes, a good deal
so, at first, but, Harry, I don't feel vexed now, I am sorry for her. There
was a tear in her eye, I am pretty sure, though she was ashamed to have
me see it, and her lips quivered, and she looked--oh, so sad, when she
told me her mother was dead; I wish you could have seen her, Harry.'
'I would rather not see her again, for I can't bear proud people--' Effie
was about interrupting her brother in defence of the little stranger girl,
but at that moment a new object attracted their attention. It was a fine
sleigh drawn by a pair of beautiful gray horses, that, with proudly
arched neck and flowing mane, stepped daintily, as if perfectly aware
of the fact that they were gentlemen's horses, and carried as fashionable
a load as New York afforded. A little girl leaned quite over the side of
the sleigh, and smiled and nodded to Effie, then waving her
handkerchief, to attract still more attention, dropped something upon
the ground. It was the child they had seen at the toy-shop. Harry flew to
pick up the offering, and gave it to his sister.
'Now, what do you think of her?' inquired Effie, as her eye lighted on
the self-same purse she had seen but a little while before; 'I knew she
must be kind-hearted--did you ever see anything so generous? Here is

ever so much money, and all for the poor woman and her sick
baby--why don't you speak, Harry?'
'Because--I--'
'You don't think she is selfish now, I hope?'
'I don't think anything about it, Effie, because I don't know. If she gave
her own money she is generous, but if she begged it of somebody else
to give--'
'If she begged it of somebody else, it was generous in her to give it to
this poor woman, instead of putting it to some other use.'
'Well, Effie, the money will certainly do the poor woman a great deal
of good, and I rather think the little girl feels better for giving, so I am
sure we