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17? THE PRESBYTERIAN
I STORIES TOR 1
HOW BETTY WON THE PRIZE.
By Eva M. Turner.
More than a hundred years ago there lived in a
quaint old village in Massachusetts a little girl named
Betty Hathaway. Her mother had died when Betty
was a tiny baby and soon after her father had been lost
at sea. Betty had 110 memory of any other home than
her Aunt Hetty's, a stately white columned old house
that was built by her great-grandfather. No family by
another name had ever lived in the old house. Aunt
iictty, w no nan never married, was a sweet iaceci, grayhaired
woman, with a kind and loving heart. She had
lived alone for many years before Betty came to her.
Betty loved her Aunt Hetty; but she was often times
lonely in the big, quiet house, and in the great still
out-of-doors, for the house stood by itself'in the midst
of a garden and orchard that quite hid it from its neighbors.
It was because Betty was lonely that Alice Denny
came. "Alice Denny," explained Betty to Aunt Hetty,
"is just a pretend girl." Up in the wide cobwebby old
garret, or out under the great trees that cast their
pleasant shade on the smooth lawn, Alice Denny kept
J Jetty company. Cause, oetty would say, i am just
a bit afraid when I am alone." "What is my little girl
afraid of?" questioned Aunt Hetty. Betty answered
solemnly, "I'm afriad of the great big quiet."
One morning Aunt Hetty was cutting a basket of
\ roses in the garden. Under a great tree near by Betty
was spreading a table for her dolls. Aunt Hetty heard
> her say, "Alice Denny, there arc two things that begin
v with V that I don't like. Can you guess what they
are?" Evidently Alice Denny could not guess, for
Befty added. "Then I'll tell you. One is Sunday and
the other is sewing." Aunt Hetty was a good deal disturbed.
Betty was a very winsome little maid, but certainly
a good child ought to like to sew and to love the
sabbath day.
Aunt Hetty had noticed, too, that Alice Denny never
steemed present when Betty was sewing the seam that
yWas her daily "stint," nor did she ever come on Sunday.
/One day she asked Betty, "Why doesn't Alice Denny
ever come on Sunday or keep you company while you
sew?" The little dark head bent low over the hated
sewing, as Betty replied. " 'Cause it wouldn't be pleasant
for her." "Why not?" asked Aunt Hetty in surnrico
" Tancp" Rpttv ancwprprl elnwlv "T don't fppl
pleasant inside, and Alice Denny would know it."
Aunt Hetty was silent. She had never known many
little girls, and she wondered if Betty was like other
children, and if, after all, she was being a good mother
to her. She felt sure that Betty's clever little fingers
would soon learn to. like sewinjr and she honed that
there would some way be shown her to make Sunday
a happy day for the little girl.
As Betty walked to meeting beside her Aunt the
next Sunday, looking so sweet and demure in her white
ruffled dress, with its great pink sash, one would never
guess that she did not like Sunday. It was past noon
when they returned. Betty changed her pretty dress
OF THE SOUTH February 9, 1910.
7?E CHILDKEN |
for the plain buff-colored one that she always wore on
Sunday afternoons. Betty knew before she entered the
dim cool dining room what she would have for dinner;
for they always, as long as Betty could remember, had
had cream cod-fish with thin slices of bread and butter
and peach jam for dinner on Sunday.
After dinner, Betty and her aunt went for a walk
through the garden and orchard. Very slowly and
softly they walked, for Aunt 1 Ietty doubted whether
it was right to walk at all just for pleasure on the Sabbath
day. After the walk Aunt Hetty sat by the wide
window in the sitting room and beside her, learning
texts from her little Testament, sat Betty on a straight,
high-backed chair. Aunt Hetty had often told Betty
about this chair, how her great-grandfather, Hathaway,
had brought it home with him from France.
Betty liked to look at the chair and with her rosy little
finger trace the delicate inlaid-pearl design that,
softly lighted its dark mahogany surface, but she did
wish that it was more comfortable to sit on. Tq Aunt
Hetty this chair played a part in Betty's training, for
it taught her to sit straight and prim and quiet, as wellbehaved
little girls should sit.
Betty was only seven, yet she could read very well
and good Deacon Fellows had offered a small, red,
leather-hound Bible, with a gilt clasp, to the child who
would learn the greatest number of texts before the
first Sabbath day in September. Betty wanted the
pretty hook; hut she did wish it wasn't snrh t^Hinus
work to learn texts.
Betty had studied only a few minutes by the big
clock that seemed to fill the room with its loud "ticktock";
but it seemed hours, so she asked the question
that she had asked almost every Sunday for over a
year, "Aunt Hetty, may I play with my dolls?" Aunt
Hetty had always answered in a grieved tone, "Why,
my child, it is the holy Sabbath day, of course you
must not play with your dolls." And so she was going
to answer today; but she paused?in a flash of memory
she saw herself a little girl whose greatest joy was a
wonderful rag doll. She remembered how hard it had
been for her to give up this doll on Sunday and she
wondered if it would be really very wrong for Betty to
play a while with her dolls.
Betty could not read Aunt it-**.-'- ?i 1 -
........ ntuj s uiougnis, so sne
was surprised to hear her say, "You may play for half
an hour, if you play quietly." Betty flew to her aunt's
side and threw her arms around her neck, kissed her
cheek, whispering close to her ear, "I love you so."
Aunt Hetty smiled at the child and a mist of glad tears
filled her eyes as the memories of the past swept over
her.
Betty went to the door and stood silently looking
toward the garden, then she brought her dolls, for she
had three, and arranged them in a prim row against the
wall. Seating herself on a low stool
said very earnestly, "Alice Denny, we'll have Sundayschool
and the dolls are the scholars and I'll be the
teacher and you are a visitor." To Aunt Hetty's surprise
the little teacher opened her Testament and be