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was a lady, and that her daughters were becoming more and more like their mother.

Joseph, soon after the reception of Susan's letter, wrote a short but dutiful one to his mother, and at the same time the following to his sister Fanny,


It was very kind in you to change your beloved gold for me. If you will send me the remaining three dollars I will send you the first gold-piece that I get, and you shall again admire the effect through the meshes of your little purse.

Do n't say a word to mother about this letter. It is a matter between ourselves. I want a new cap desperately. Mine is a shabby countrified thing, of a different fashion from what the boys wear here, and you know I must appear like a gentleman, for one of these days I shall be one, and then I will see that mother, and Susan, and you, live in elegant style, and have every thing

Susan is not as generous as you, Fanny, and therefore you must not tell her about the money. Just inclose the bank-note carefully in a letter, and put it into the post-office directed I know you will oblige your brother,

you wish.


to me.

Fanny was an amiable, affectionate little girl, only eleven years old. She had never written a letter to send through the post-office. She had never done any thing without her mother's consent, and it was a fearful task that her brother had imposed upon her. She feared it was wrong to do as he requested, but her brother's letter seemed to her youthful fancy so kind, so affectionate, and so great was her desire to oblige him, that after a violent struggle in her own mind she determined to send him the money.

She took her little writing-desk into her own room, and sat down, trembling, to write.

She made several attempts before she succeeded to her own satisfaction, and, indeed, she was not very well satisfied at last.

I am very sorry

that you

do not wish me to tell mother about this money that I now send to you. She would not tell me not to send it, I am sure, because you really want it. I hope it is not wrong to write without her knowing it. O, do try to make a good man.

Our dear mother prays for you every morning and night, and talks about

you a great deal.

I am so afraid Susan will come up stairs, and find me writing, that I must stop. O, dear! I have got to put this in the post-office, and I shall tremble so.

I shall feel like a little thief. From your loving sister,

FANNY. P. S. You won't call us Pug and Tow any more,

will you? Susan's nose is really quite pretty, and my hair grows darker every day.

Fanny did feel as she said she should, “ like a little thief,” when she stealthily stole to the office and deposited her letter.

Joe must have felt as meanly as if he had been robbing a hen-roost when he took out the three dollars. He did. But then he thought immediately how necessary it was that he should look like a gentleman, — and he went and bought a new black cloth cap with a very large tassel, and strutted about in a very consequential manner.

The next Saturday evening, Mrs. Brandon and her daughters sat in their neat little piazza, admiring the rich glow of a golden sunset-sky.

“ It is a beautiful prelude to the Lord's day,” said Mrs. Brandon. “Sunday was originally named after that glorious luminary, but it should

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remind us now of the Sun of Righteousness, who has risen with healing in his beams."

The labors of the week were past. In the soothing calmness of the quiet evening, the widow's heart expanded with gratitude to her Heavenly Father. She remembered that there was to be a contribution at church the next day, for a benevolent object in which she was deeply interested.

Fanny, dear,” she said, “I must borrow your three-dollar note for the contribution-box to-mor

I have no smaller sum by me than ten, and I cannot afford

give so much. In the course of the week I will pay you my debt, for I have not forgotten that I am to restore your pretty pocket-piece."

Fanny blushed, hesitated, and trembled.

6 What ails you, sister ?” said Susan; “ you were willing enough to give Joseph the money; why are you unwilling to lend it to mother.”

Well, my dear child,” said her kind mother, “I will not take your last dollar; perhaps it is not right to borrow it even for a benevolent purpose."

“O mother! dear mother,” cried Fanny, throwing her arms around her mother's neck,


"I have not the money to lend you, but do n't ask me what I have done with it, for I must not tell you."

"Perhaps Joseph could tell me," said Mrs. Brandon, sorrowfully, for the truth flashed across her mind.

“He could, mother, he could," sobbed Fanny. “ Just like him, just like him," exclaimed Su


That night, when Mrs. Brandon, as usual, prayed for the absent one, it was with a mournful, trembling voice, and many, many tears.

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