You would never have dreamed it, never in the world; but my sister Patty was really one of the most impetuous persons I have ever met! She was always plunging headlong into some scheme that seized upon her fancy, or into which some designing person, knowing her weakness, had inveigled her. Itinerant imposters with eyeless needles, pins as pointless as the jokes of a would-be wit, shoe-laces from which the tags departed upon the first trial, all these seemed to land at our door, and victimize Sister Patty.

You will perhaps smile as you read this; so may I; but true tears shine in my eyes as well. I glance at this sister of mine as she sits with the fire-light glinting on her busy needle, darning with consummate patience the most trying orifices in the stockings of the writer. Who but she could make those gaping holes look neat and presentable? You would hardly guess, either, from her face, what sort of a person she might be; for the lines are very clear and quiet, the eyes tender, gray, the whole expression that of peace rather than repose-the peace that "passeth all understanding." But then the houth! If you would read character with any degree of accuracy, always observe the mouth. My sister's is as sensitive as that of a childjust as eager, just as credulous, as full of faith. But never, never around any child's mouth is such an expression of pathos, of yearning. Ah, never such a record of deep suffering patiently borne as stands written in lines of untold loveli ness about the sweet mouth of this my elder sister.

You will understand, then, why it was that the little urchins in the street asked her for

pennies," and put out their hands, frosty, red as winter apples with the cold, sure that the penny would be forthcoming. You will understand why it was that people who were sick or in trouble always sent for Sister Patty.

She knew as well as anybody that people imposed upon her; but then she liked them none the worse for it; the main idea that animated her life was that of "helping other people along." Let her help you in some way, and she was the obliged party, and felt grateful to you for the privilege. Perhaps there had been a time when her life had held other hopes beside these, a beautiful season, when it was early spring-time with her heart, when the birds sang and the violets bloomed in sunlight. The birds had stopped their singing maybe, and if the violets bloomed, one guessed it was above a grave; but since she said nothing of all this, neither shall I, except as I must tell the story of what befell us in our quiet home.

It was a very quiet home, in a little country town, where we had always lived. Our house was a rambling, old-fashioned affair my father had built years ago. There had been plenty of birdlings in the nest, but they were all gone now, only Sister Patty and myself left. So we lived in the old rookery still; poor as church mice were we, but we contrived to be happy after a fashion of our own. To be sure, everything was out of "kelter," as the saying is. We made roaring fires in the old-fashioned grates, but what became of the heat, it was hard to say; I suppose it all went up the wide chimney, just where it wasn't wanted. So Sister Patty and I wrapped shawls about ourselves, and made light

"I've been expecting all the time we should have been able to buy one," interpolated my victim.

This philosophy answered the purpose until one afternoon-I shan't say one unlucky afternoon, just because that's a bad expression, and besides, the sequence proved otherwise-one afternoon, then, I let Sister Patty proceed alone to the one scene of dissipation in which we permitted ourselves to indulge, viz.: that useful branch of festivity known as the "Sewing Society." I saw her depart with misgivings; it was an uncommon thing for us to be separated at any time, especially upon these occasions; but how could I help myself? Marian, our plump little maid of all work-a misnomer in this instance, as Sister Patty and self did all the work worth speaking of-had been sent for-wanted at home. There were various odds and ends to be attended to, so as I was the youngest, I got the reticule, put in thimble, scissors, etc.-I always attended to those small items-and despatched Sister Patty to the field of action. If I had dreamed for a moment what the result would be! Well, this was just it:

Sister Patty came home from the Society a trifle earlier than usual, and with her bonnet edged a little bit to one side, as if it had been put on in a fit of desperation, just as a man under similar circumstances claps on his hat close down over his eyes.

"The parlor carpets are very pretty, though, Elizabeth," says my poor sister, in a voice that quivers.

"But while you were about it, why did you pick out the coldest weather? and why did you select our house after that of Mrs. Rawlins, who is rich, who is splendid, who has every comfort and luxury?" ended I, jumbling everything together, as women will when they wish to be especially aggravating.

I say I" ended" thus. For the truth was that as I regarded my sister I beheld large round tears betokening extreme distress, falling down her cheeks.

I made a rush, then, threw my arms around her neck, and declared-"Sister, stop crying, and I'll not say a word more. Just tell me how it came about?"

"There was no place else for it-I mean the Society to meet. And I and I thought they all looked at me, and in a moment of desperation I said we'd have it, and they all took it up at once."

"Of course-curiosity," muttered I. Then grew desperate, too, and said defiantly-"Well, let them come!" as if the mem

"Done what, Sister Patty?" "I expect you'll be amazed."

"Patty, you haven't gone and invited that Sewing Society to meet here? I can't, I wont believe that!"

Then Sister Patty and I sat down and talked the matter over as to the hows and wherefores, so that we might not be disgraced and put to open shame.

Should we set a regular tea-table, or should we pass the tea around? The latter carried the day. It was an innovation, to be sure, for the time-honored custom was at a given signal from the lady of the house to proceed in solemn state down stairs to a table set forth with frigid splendor in its "company" silver, china, etc, which we surrounded in silence-a feminine conclave without one masculine present to stimulate conversation or give zest to the meal; in my heart I always sympathize with a man when he declares that he abhors "tea drinkings."

"if the rest only matched."

I've got a favor to ask," says Allie, growing grave all at once. You're not either of you used to sewing societies. Now I know just the modus operandi. Aunt Phillis is sick, and wants to see you both, ever so much. Now you go there in the morning, and don't get back here until the afternoon, just about dusk, say; the people don't come before then, and if I don't have everything in beautiful order, my name's not Allie Starbright!"

At first we declared "impossible;" but Allie coaxed, and Patty gave right up, then. I followed suit, for I began to see there was something beneath it all. When she had her will, Allie ran away, but I noticed before she went that she nestled close up to Sister Patty and kissed her many, many times.

The next morning found us on our way to Aunt Phillis'. Patty, who was never more at home than when she was going to a sick room, carried a little brown basket on her arm. How many pilgrimages that little brown basket made in the course of the year! and what comfort it always held for invalids!

Aunt Phillis was charmed to see us, "felt better already." Patty drew out a quivering form of calves-foot jelly and set it in view.

"My!" says Aunt Phillis, admiringly, "if you don't beat out the Dutch for making jelly."

The day slipped away, Sister Patty as busy as a bee, setting things to rights, and making Aunt Phillis comfortable in every direction, obliging her to resort to her pet quotation in reference to that worthy people, the Knickerbockers, whom she evidently regarded as a model nation; for whatever gave her pleasure always "beat out the Dutch."

Patty knew it at once. She ran to it, she kissed each separate piece and gave it a little hug of delight. Then I knew how much it had cost her to part with it, how proud and pure the honor that would let no stain be left upon our father's memory.

Allie turned to us both, drew us to the fire, and standing between us both, one hand in each of ours, said—" Dear friends you will not refuse me the comfort of pleasing you? How dear you both are, I cannot tell; how dear one of you must ever be to me I can only show in deeds. Before my father died, he told me the story. How dear Patty had been to him; how she was to have been my mother. I think he loved her through all these years. He told me, too, that he had bought the silver, but dared not offer it in his lifetime; he knew Patty too well for that; when he was dead and gone, she would take it from his daughter and keep it for the father's sake."

By this Allie and I were both crying. Patty shed no tears, but smiled softly, sweetly, brightly as the angels may, then held out her arms to Allie Starbright. Allie nestled in them. She had lost her mother years ago, and now that her father had gone, there was no room for empty gossip-Sister Patty could be her mother now in very deed and truth.

Perhaps you may ask why Sister Patty and Joseph Starbright, Allie's father, had never got married. I cannot tell you; it seems to me that hearts that are dearest in this world, are forever held apart. God help us all! how we drift away from those we prize the fondest. Hush! there is no loss even here. Remember, we are only children, the best of us, and what we would soil or mar, God puts out of reach for the present. Trustful heart, you will have it back again by and by.

So I left the two together, and went about the house wondering at its changed aspect. Fingers more deft than any fairy's had done their best, and worked the wonders only a loving heart may everywhere.

tion!