“O Lu, tell me all about it!” exclaimed Grace when Lulu came home the next day, from her visit to Eliza.  “Are they very, very poor and needy?”

“’Liza and her children?  Well, not so very; because papa has been seeing to them for quite a while.  They had a good fire (’Liza was ironing for somebody) and pretty good clothes; but the children are growing too big for some of their things and have torn or worn holes in others.  So papa says he thinks we should make them some new ones.  I’m going to ask Grandma Elsie to buy some flannel with some of my money, and let me make a skirt for the baby.”

“I’d like to make an apron for one of the little girls,” said Grace.

“Well I suppose you can.  There are two girls and a boy besides the baby.  Just think what a lot of trouble it must be to keep them all clothed and fed!”

“And poor ’Liza will have to do it all herself while Ajax is in jail.”

“I don’t believe he was much help anyhow,” said Lulu, with a scornful little toss of her head; “she says he didn’t work half the time and was always getting drunk and beating her and the children.  I should think she’d want him kept in jail as long as he lives.”

“But maybe he’ll grow good, and be kind and helpful to her when he gets out.”

“Papa will do all he can to make him good,” said Lulu; “he’s gone now to the jail to talk to him.  Just think of his taking so much trouble for such an ungrateful wretch.”

“It’s very good in him,” responded Grace; “and it’s being like the dear Lord Jesus to take trouble to do good to ungrateful wretches.”

“Yes; so it is, and nobody can be acquainted with papa without seeing that he tries always to be like Jesus.”

The captain’s motive for visiting the jail that day was certainly most kind and Christian; a desire to reason with the two prisoners on the sin and folly of their evil courses, and persuade them to repentance and reformation.

He did not approach them in a self-righteous spirit, for the thought in his heart was, “It is only the grace of God that maketh us to differ; and with the same heredity, and like surroundings and influences I might have been even a greater criminal than they;” but he found them sullen and defiant and by no means grateful for his kindly interest in their welfare.

Still he continued his efforts, visiting them frequently while they lay in the county jail awaiting trial.

Lulu looked forward to the trial with some apprehension, dreading to be placed on the witness-stand before the judges, jurymen, lawyers, and the crowd of spectators likely to be present on the occasion.

“It’ll be a great, great deal worse than that time in the magistrate’s office,” she said to herself again and again.  But by her father’s advice she tried to put away the thought of it and give her mind to other things.

She was interested in her studies, amusements, in the books and periodicals furnished for the profit and entertainment of herself and brother and sister, and in the young people’s societies just started in the connection.

These prospered and grew by the addition of new members from among the young folks who, though of the neighborhood, were yet outside of the connection.

Under Grandma Elsie’s wise and kindly instruction several of the older members soon became quite expert in preparing work for themselves and the others; also in gathering up information on the subject of missions, and in regard to the needy of their own vicinity.

Thus their meetings were made interesting, were well attended and looked forward to with pleasure, while quite an amount of good was accomplished through their means.

The Woodburn children were never willing to miss a meeting, and took pride and pleasure in doing their full share of the sewing undertaken by the Dorcas society.

That was a more congenial task to Grace than to Lulu, but the latter partly from pride, partly from a real desire to be useful insisted each time on carrying home at least as much work as Gracie did.

And for some weeks she was very faithful with her self-imposed task; but after that her interest in that particular work began to flag and she delayed doing it, giving her time and thoughts to other matters, till at last Gracie reminded her that there was but a day left in which to do it, if the garment were to be ready for handing in at the next meeting of the society.

“Oh dear!” cried Lulu, “I forgot the time was so short, and how I’m ever to finish it so soon I don’t see!  I’ll have to take all my play time for it.”

“I wish I could help you,” Gracie said, with a very sympathizing look, “but you know papa said I mustn’t do any more than my own.”

“Of course not,” returned Lulu emphatically; “your own is too much for such a feeble little thing as you; and don’t you worry about me, I’ll manage it somehow.”

“But how can you?  You have that composition to write, and two lessons to learn to recite to papa in the morning.  I should think they would take all your afternoon except what has to be given to exercise; and it’s dinner time now.”

“I’ll study hard and try to get the lessons and composition all done before dark, and then I’ll sew as fast as I can all the evening while papa is reading or talking to mamma Vi and us.”

“I’m afraid it’s more than you can do,” returned Grace, with a doubtful shake of the head; “and perhaps somebody may come in to interrupt us too.”

“If they do I’ll just go on with the sewing, not stopping even if there are games to be played, and I’m asked to take part.”

“It’s very nice in you to be so determined,” commented Grace, giving her sister an admiring affectionate look.

“It’s about time I was determined to do that sewing,” said Lulu, laughing a little, “for I’ve put it off over and over again because I wanted to indulge myself in playing games or reading a story.”

The ringing of the dinner bell put a stop to their talk.

At the table the captain said to his wife that business called him to the city, he must start directly the meal was over, and would not be able to get home till late, long after the usual bedtime; but he did not want any one to sit up for him, as he could let himself in with his latch key.

“O papa,” cried Lulu, “I’d like to sit up for you, if I may!”

“No, my child,” he said with his pleasant smile, “I quite appreciate the kind feeling that prompts that offer, but I want you to go to your bed at the usual hour.”

“Papa,” observed Max insinuatingly, and with an arch look, “it wouldn’t hurt a boy to sit up and wait for his father.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” laughed the captain; “boys need sleep as well as girls, and should not be deprived of their regular allowance, when there is no necessity.”

“How about wives?” asked Violet with a twinkle of fun in her eye.

“Wives are of course not under orders,” he returned gallantly, “but are free to do as they please; but I should be loath to have mine miss her beauty sleep.”

“Then I suppose she should try to take it for your sake,” laughed Violet.

“Papa, I wish you didn’t ever have to go away,” sighed Grace; “we shall miss so much the fun with the babies, and the nice talk with you while they are being put to bed, and then the reading afterwards.”

“I have not said anything about taking the babies with me, and really have no thought of doing so; as they would not be likely to prove of assistance in transacting my business,” returned her father gravely.

At that everybody laughed and Violet said to Gracie, “So you see, dearie, you need not despair of some fun with the babies.”

“Maybe not, mamma, but it won’t be just the same as when papa is with us, and while you are away putting them to bed we’ll miss papa ever so much.”

“I hope so,” he said, smiling on her; “it is pleasant to feel that one’s absence is regretted.  But, my dear little daughter, we can’t expect to have all our enjoyments every day.”

“No, sir;” said Lulu; “and we’ll miss you when Mamma Vi comes back and you are not there to read to us.”

“Of course we will,” said Violet, “but though your papa is unquestionably the finest reader among us, the rest of us can read intelligibly, and some of us can read aloud to the others; perhaps we may take turns.”

“A very good plan,” said the captain.  “But, my dear, I can not endorse that statement of yours in regard to our relative ability as readers.  I consider my wife as fine a reader as I ever listened to.”

“Mamma Vi does read beautifully,” remarked Max, with an affectionate, admiring glance at her.

“I think so too,” assented Lulu, adding “and if she will read to us it will be a great favor, and I am sure will make the time pass quickly and very pleasantly.”

“No doubt,” said the captain, “and I am glad you are ready to appreciate such an effort on your mamma’s part; but she may have other plans for the evening.”

Violet had intended to spend it in writing to her absent brothers, but instantly decided to sacrifice her own wishes to those of the children.

“I am sure I shall enjoy reading to so appreciative an audience,” she said laughingly, “and feel myself highly honored in filling my husband’s place.”

“Max and Lulu,” said the captain, “don’t forget the tasks set for this afternoon; you can easily accomplish them before tea and have an hour or more for exercise beside.”

Both replied with a promise not to forget or neglect his requirements, and immediately upon bidding her father good-bye and seeing him out of sight, Lulu went to her room and applied herself to the study of her lessons first, then to the writing of her composition.

She did her work hurriedly, however, with the thought of the sewing for which she now had so little time, ever present with her; consequently the lessons took small hold upon her memory and the remaining task was very indifferently performed.

She was in the act of wiping her pen when Max called to her and Grace that the ponies were at the door and they three and Mamma Vi were to have a ride together.

“Oh how nice!” cried both little girls, and hastened to don riding hats and habits.

They had grown exceedingly fond of their young step-mother; and as she did not very often find it convenient to share their rides, to have her do so was considered quite a treat.

On their return Lulu, hardly waiting to remove her out door garments and make herself presentable for the evening, went at the sewing with all the activity and determination of her very energetic nature.

“It’s got to be done if I have to work like a steam engine!” she exclaimed to Grace, thrusting in and drawing out her needle with a rapidity that surprised her little sister.

“I never saw you sew so fast, Lu,” she said.  “I couldn’t do it; I’d have to take more time to be sure my stitches were nice and even.”

“Oh it’s for poor folks and so it’s strong, it won’t make much difference about the looks,” returned Lulu, working away at the same headlong pace.

“But Grandma Elsie is particular about the stitches,” said Grace; “don’t you remember she told us she was, for our own sakes more than the poor folks’; because it would be a sad thing for us to fall into slovenly habits of working?”

“Yes, I do remember now you speak of it; and I’ll try to make the work neat as well as to do it fast.”

Lulu worked on not allowing herself a moment’s rest or relaxation, till the tea bell rang.

Violet invited them all to spend the evening in her boudoir.

Lulu carried her sewing there directly after leaving the table, and Violet more than once spoke admiringly of the diligence and energy she displayed in working steadily on till it was time for them to separate for the night.

“It isn’t done yet; dear me how many stitches it does take to make a garment!” sighed Lulu to Grace when they had retired to the room of the latter.

“So it does,” said Grace, “but papa says having to take so many of them, one right after another, is a good lesson in patience and perseverance.”

“Kind of lessons I’m not fond of,” laughed Lulu.

“And you’ve worked so hard all the evening! you must be very tired.”

“Yes, I’m tired; but I’d sit up and work an hour or two longer if it wouldn’t be disobedience to papa.

“Well I’ll see how much I can do before breakfast to-morrow morning.  Perhaps I can finish; I hope I can.”

She carried out her resolution, and when their father came in for the customary bit of chat with his little daughters before breakfast, he found her sewing diligently.

He commended her industry, particularly when Grace had told how much of it had been shown the previous evening, but added that he hoped the tasks he had set her had been first properly attended to.

“Yes, sir; I learned my lessons and wrote my composition yesterday, before I began the sewing,” she replied.

“That is well,” he said, “I am glad to see you willing to use some of your leisure time in working for the poor, but your education which is to fit you for greater usefulness in the future must not be neglected for that or anything else.”

Lulu blushed with a sudden half conviction that her tasks had not been so faithfully attended to as they should have been.  But it was now too late to remedy the failure, as the school hour would come very soon after breakfast and family worship.

She wished she had learned her lessons more thoroughly and spent more time and pains upon her composition, but hoped she might be able to acquit her herself better, on being called to recite, than she feared.

However, it proved a vain hope; she hesitated and gave incorrect answers several times in the first recitation, and when it came to the second showed herself almost entirely unacquainted with the lesson.

Her father looked very grave but only said, as he handed back her book, “These are the poorest recitations I have ever heard from you.”

Then taking up her composition, which he had found lying on his desk and had already examined, “And this, I am sorry to have to say, is a piece of work that does no credit to my daughter; the writing is slovenly, the sentences are badly constructed, and the spelling is very faulty.  It must be re-written this afternoon, and both lessons learned so that you can recite them creditably to me before I can allow you any recreation.”

“I don’t care,” she said with a pout and a frown, “I just have too much to do, and that’s all there is about it.”

“My child, are you speaking quite as respectfully as you ought in addressing your father?” he asked in grave, reproving accents.

She hung her head in sullen silence.

He waited a moment, then said with some sternness, “When I ask you a question, Lucilla, I expect an answer, and it must be given.”

“No, sir; it wasn’t respectful,” she replied penitently.  “But please forgive me, papa, I hope I’ll never speak so again.”

He drew her to him and kissed her tenderly.  “I do, dear child.  But now I must know what you mean by saying that you have too much to do.”

“It’s that sewing for the Dorcas society, papa, beside all my lessons and practising, and other things that you bid me do every day.”

“Then you must undertake less of it, or none at all; for as I have said before, your lessons are of much more importance.  I can pay some one to work for the poor, but my little girl’s stock of knowledge must be increased, and her mind improved by her own efforts.”

“I don’t want to give it up, papa; because it would be mortifying to have it said I couldn’t do as much as the other girls.”

“You seem to be doing charitable work from a very poor motive,” he remarked in a tone of grave concern.

“Papa, that isn’t my only motive,” she replied, hanging her head and blushing.  “I do want to please the Lord Jesus and to be kind and helpful to the poor.”

“I am glad to hear it; but you must be willing to undertake less if you can not do so much without neglecting other, and more important duties.  Did you bring home an extra quantity of work from the last meeting of your society?”

“No, sir,” and she blushed again as she spoke, “but I I kept putting off doing it because there was always something else I wanted to do a story to read, or a game to play, or a bit of carving, or something pleasanter than sewing till Grace reminded me there was only one day left, and then I hurried over my lessons and composition and worked as hard and fast as I could at the sewing.”

“Ah,” he said, “it is an old and very true saying that ’Procrastination is the thief of time.’  The only way to accomplish much in this world is to have a time for each duty, and always attend to it at that set time.

“If you want to go on with this Dorcas work you must set apart some particular time for it, when it will not interfere with other duties, and resolve not to allow yourself to use that time for anything else.”

“Unless my father orders me?” she said half inquiringly, half in assertion, and with an arch look and smile.

“Yes; there may be exceptions to the rule,” he replied returning the smile.

“Now we have talked long enough on this subject and must begin to put in practice the rule I have just laid down.”

“Yes, sir; I have my ciphering to do now.  But, papa, must I learn the lessons over and rewrite the composition this afternoon?  If you say I must, I’ll have to miss the meeting of our society.  I’d be very sorry for that and ashamed to have to tell why I wasn’t there.  Please, papa, won’t you let me go, and do my work over after I get back?  There’ll be an hour, or more before tea and then all the evening.”

He did not answer immediately, and she added, with a wistful, pleading look, “I know I don’t deserve to be let go, but you’ve often been a great deal better to me than I deserved.”

“As I well may be, considering how far beyond my deserts are my blessings,” he said with a tender smile and another kiss.  “Yes, daughter, you may attend the meeting and I shall hope to hear some excellent recitations from you before you go to your bed to-night.”

“Oh thank you, dear papa!  I’ll try my very hardest,” she exclaimed joyously, giving him a vigorous hug.

The society met at Ion that day.  The captain and Violet drove over with the children, and leaving them there while they went on some miles farther, called for them again on their return at the close of the hour appropriated to its exercises.

Grandma Elsie’s face hardly expressed approval as she examined Lulu’s work, but she let it pass, only saying in a low aside to the little girl, “It is not quite so well done as the last garment you brought in, my child, but I will overlook the partial failure, hoping the next bit of work will be an improvement upon both.”

Lulu blushed and was silent; once she would have made an angry retort, but she was slowly learning patience and humility.

On arriving at home she set immediately to work at her tasks, nor left off till the tea bell rang.  The time had been too short for her to make much progress, and it was quite a trial to have to spend the whole evening in her own room while the others were enjoying the usual pleasant hours of relaxation together; the sport with the babies, the familiar chat, and interesting reading; but that too she bore with patience.

It was not till the call to evening worship that she joined the family.  When the service was over she drew near her father.

“Papa, I have re-written that composition and hope you will find it a great deal better, I have studied my lessons too, till I think I can recite them creditably.”

“Ah, that is well,” he said, laying a hand tenderly on her head and smiling affectionately down into the eyes upraised to his.  “I will go with you presently to hear the lessons and examine your little essay.”

When he had done so, “I am very glad indeed, daughter,” he said, “to be able to bestow hearty praise on you this time; you have greatly improved your composition, and your recitations were quite perfect.”

He drew her to his knee as he spoke, she blushing with pleasure at his words.

“I missed my eldest daughter, from the family circle this evening,” he went on smoothing her hair caressingly; “indeed I think we all missed her.  I hope we will not be deprived of her company in the same way again.”

“I hope not, papa; I do mean to be more faithful in preparing my lessons.  I’m sure I ought when I have such a kind, kind teacher,” she added looking lovingly into his eyes.  “Dear papa,” putting her arm round his neck and laying her cheek to his, “I do love you so, so much!”

“My darling,” he responded, “your love is very precious to me, and I don’t think it can be greater than mine for you.  My daughter’s worth to her fond father could not be computed in dollars and cents,” he added with a happy laugh.

“I hope Grandma Elsie found your sewing well done?”

“Not so very, papa,” she replied, her tone expressing some mortification; “she said it was not so nicely done as the last.”

“That is a pity; it will hardly do to keep on so going backward instead of forward as regards improvement in that line of work.”

“No, papa, I don’t mean to; I didn’t bring home quite so much this time, though some of the girls did look as if they thought I was growing lazy and it was dreadfully mortifying to have them think so and I’m going to try Eva’s plan.  She says she divides her work into as many portions as there are days to do it in, and won’t let herself miss doing at least one portion each day.  She says she gets it done quite easily in that way, often finished before the day when it is to be handed in.”

“But it can’t be that she puts it off for story-reading, games and what not?”

“No, sir; and I don’t mean to any more.  I’ll put that sewing first after what you say are more important duties, and not let myself have any play till it’s done.  I think I can ’most always do it before breakfast, now that you don’t require me to sweep or dust my own rooms.  I’m very much obliged to you, papa, for saying I needn’t do those things any more while I have so many lessons.”

“I want my daughters to understand all kinds of housework so that they may be competent to direct servants, if they have them, or be independent of them if they have not,” he said; “but now that you have learned how to sweep and dust, I do not think it necessary for you to make use of that knowledge while your time can be better employed, and I am able to pay a servant for doing the work.”