Evening Star Newspaper, March 16, 1895, Page 20

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAROH 16, 189,-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. - (Copyright by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.) CHAPTER I. y One of the first things which Comfort Yemembered being told was that she had been named for her Aunt Comfort, who had given her a gold ring and a gold dollar for her name. Comfort could not under- stand why. It always seemed to her that her aunt and not she had given the name, and that she should have given the ring and the dollar, but that was what her mother had told her. “Your Aunt Comfort gave you this beautiful gold ring and this gold dollar for ycur name,” said she. The ring and the dollar were kept in Mrs. Pease’s little rosewood work box, which she never used for needlework, but as a repository for her treasures. Her best cameo brooch was in there, too, and a lock of hair of Comfort’s baby brother, who died. One of Comfort's chiefest delights was looking at her gold ring and gold dollar. “When she was very good her mother would unlock the rosewood box and let her see them. She had never worn the ring; it was much too large for her. Aunt Comfort and her mother had each thought that it was foolish to buy a gold ring that she could outgrow. “If it were a carnelian ring I wouldn't care,” said Aunt Comfort, “but it does seem a pity when it's a real gold ring.” So the ring was bought a lit- tle too large for Comfort’s mother. She was a very small woman and Comfort was a large baby, and, moreover, favored her father's family, who were all well grown, and Aunt Comfort feared she might have larger fingers. “Why, I've seen girls eight years old with fingers a good deal bigger than yours, “Don’t You Cry,” She Whispered. Emily,” she said. “Suppose Comfort shouldn't be able to get that ring on her finger after she’s eight years old what a pity ’twould be, when it’s real gold, too.” But when Comfort was eight years old she was very small for her age, and she could actually crowd two of her fingers, the little one and the third, into the ring. She begged her mother to let her wear it 80, but she would not. “No,” said she, “I shan’t let you make yourself a laughing stock by wearing a ring any such way as that, besides you couldn't use your fingers. You've got to wait till your hand grows to “- So poor little Comfort waited, but she had a discouraged feeling sometimes that her hand never would grow to it. “Sup- pose I shouldn’t be any bigger than you, mother,” she said, “Couldn't I ever wear the ring?” “Hush, you will be bigger than I am; all your father’s folks are, and you look just like them,” said her mother conclusively, and Comfort tried to have faith. The gold dollar also could only impart the simple delight of possession, for it was not to be spent. “I am going to give her a gold dol- lar to keep beside the ring,” Aunt Comfort had said. “What is it for?” Comfort asked some- times, when she gazed at it shining in its pink cotton bed in the top of the workbox. “It's to keep,” answered her mother. Com- fcrt grew to have a feeling which she never expressed to anybody that her gold dollar was somehow like Esau’s birthright, and something dreadful would happen to her if she parted with it. She felt safer, because a “mess of pottage” did not sound attractive to her, and she did not think she would ever be tempted to spend her gold dollar for that. Comfort went to school when she was ten years old; she had not begun as early as most of the others girls, because she lived three-quarters of a mile from the schoolhouse and had many sore throats. The doctor had advised her mother to teach her at home, and she could do that be- cause she had been a teacher herself when she was a girl. Comfort had not been to school one day before everybody in it knew about her gold ring and her dollar, and it happened in this way: She sat on the bench between Rosy and Matilda Stebbins, and Rosy had a ring on the middle finger of her left hand. Rosy was a fair, pretty little girl, with long, light curls, which all the other girls admired, and begged for the privilege of twisting. Rosy at recess usually had one or two of her friends standing at her back twisting her soft curls over their fingers. Resy wore pretty gowns and aprons, too, and she was always glancing down to see if her skirt was spread out nicely when she sat on the bench. Her sister, Matilda, had just as pretty gowns, but she was not Pretty herself. However, she was a better scholar, although she was a year younger. That day she kept glancing across Comfort at her sister and her black eyes twinkled angrily. Rosy sometimes sat with her left hand pressed affectedly against her pink cheek, with the ring finger bent slightly outward, and then she held up her spelling book before her with her left hand, and the same ostentatious finger. Finally Matilda lost her patience, and she whispered across Comfort Pease: “You act like a ninny,” said she to Rosy, with a fierce pucker of her red lips and a black twinkle of eyes. Rosy looked at her and the pink spread ftly ali over her face and neck, but she still held her spelling book high, and the middle finger with the ring wiggled at the back of it. “It ain't anything but brass neither,” whispered Matilda. “It ain't,” Rosy whispered back. “Smell of it.” Resy crooked her arm around her face and began to cry. However, she cried quite easily, and everybody was accustom- ed to seeing her fair head bent over the -hollow of her arm several times a day, so she created no excitement -at all. Even the school teacher simply glanced at her and said nothing. The school teacher was an elderly woman who had taught school ever since she was sixteen. She was called very strict, and the little girls were all afraid of her. She could ferrule a boy just as well as a man could. Her name was Miss Tabitha Hanks. She did not like Ro8y Stebbins very well, although she tried to be impartial. Once, at rece: she shed Charlotte Hutchins and Sar: Al- len, who were twisting Rosy’s curls, away and gathered them all up herself in one hard hand. “I'd cut them all off if I was our mother,” satd she with a sharp little ‘ug, but when Rosy rolled her scared blue eyes up at her she only laughed grimly, and let go. Now, Miss Hanks just looked absently at Rosy, weeping in the hollow of her blue Ingham arm, then went over to the black- rd and began writing in fair large char- acters: “A rolling stone gathers no moss,” for the scholars to copy in the writing books. The temptation and the opportunity. were too much for Comfort Pease. She Budged Matilda Stebbins and whispered in Roan: EWILKIN her ear, although she knew that whisper- ing in school was wrong: “I've got a real gold ring,” whispered Comfort. oo turned. astonished eyes upon er. ves, I have.” “Who gave it to ycu?” “My Aunt Comfort, for my name.” d Comfort Pease, said Miss Tabitha Hanks, _ sharpl: Comfort gave a great jump. The teacher had been standing at the blackboard,with her back toward them, and how had she seen? Never after that did Comfort feel quite safe from Miss Ta’ itha’s eyes; even if they were on the other side of a wall, she could not quite trust it. “Step right out on the floor, Matilda and Comfort,” repeated Miss Tabitha, and out the two little girls stepped. Comfort’s knees shook, and she was quite pale. Ma- tilda looked very sober, but her black cyes gave a detiant flash when she was out on the floor and saw that her sister Rosy had lowered her arm and was looking at her with gentle triumph. You see what you've got because you called my ring brass,” Rosy seemed to say, and Matilda gave a stern little nod at her, as if she replied: “It is brass. Poor little Comfort did not feel much sustained by the possession of her real gold ring. It was dreadful to stand out there facing the school, which seemed to be a perfect dazzle of blue and black eyes all fastened upon her in her little red gown and gingham tire, in her little stout shoes, which turned in for very meekness; with her little, dangling hands, which could not wear the gold ring, and her little shamed face and whispering lips, and little vain heart, which was being punished for its little vanity. ‘They stood on the floor until recess. Comfcrt felt so weak and stiff that she could scarcely move, when Miss said, harshly: “Now, you ci go.” She cast a piteous glance at Matilda, who im- mediately put her arms around her waist and pulled her along to the entry, where their hoods and cloaks hung. “Don’t you cry,” she whispered; “she’s awful strict, but she won’t hurt ycu a mite. She brought me a whole tumbler of currant jelly when I had the measles. shan’t whisper again as long as I half sobbed Comfort, putting on her shan’t, either,” said Matilda. “I never had to stand out on the floor before. I dcn’t know what my mother will say when The two little girls went out in the snowy yard, and there was Rosy, with Charlotte Hutchins and Sarah Allen, and she was showing them her ring. It was again too much for sensible little Matilda, weary from her long stand on the floor. “Rosy Stebbins, you are a great ninny, acting so stuck up over that old brass ring,” said she. “Comfort Pease has a real solid gold one, and she don’t even wear it.” Rosy-and Charlotte Hutchins and Sara! Allen all stared at Comfort: ‘Have you?’ asked Charlotte Hutchins, in an awed tone. She was a doctor’s daughter and had many things that the other little girls had not, but even she had no gold ring—nothing but a carnelian. “Yes, I have, modestly. “Real gold? voice. “Yes.” Some other girls came up, some of the older ones, with their hair done up, and even some of the boys towering lankily on the cutskirts. Not one of these schol- ars in this county district school fifty years ago had ever owned a gold ring. All they had ever seen were their mothers’ weli- wern wedding circlets. ‘Comfort Pease has got a real gold ring!” went from one to the other. “Why don’t she wear it, then? ed one of the girls. She had very red cheeks and her black hair was in two glossy braids, crossed and pinned at the back of her head, and surmounted by her mother’s shell comb she had let her wear to school that day. She had come out to recess without her hood to show it. he’s waiting for her hand to grow to it,” explained Matilda, to whom Comfort had slyly whispered the whole story. “Hold up your hand,” ordered the big girl, and Comfort held up her little hand pink with cold. “H’m, looks big enough,” said the big girl, and she adjusted her shell comb. “TI call it a likely story,” said another big girl in an audible whisper. “The Peases don’t have any more than other folks,” said still another big girl. The little crowd dispersed with scornful giggles. Comfort turned redder and red- der. Rosy and Charlotte and Sarah were looking at her curiously; only Matilda stood firm. “You are all just as mean as you can be!” she cried. “She has got a gold ring.’ replied Comfort, blushing asked Rosy, in a subdued demand- CHAPTER II. Matilda Stebbins put her arm around Comfort, who was fairly crying. “Come,” said she, “don’t you mind anything about tem, Comfort. Let's go in the schoolhouse. I've got a splendid Baldwin apple in my dinner pail, and@’ll give you half of it. They're mad ‘cause they haven't got any gold ring.” “IT have got a gold ring,” sobbed Cgm- fort; “honest and true, black and blue, lay me down and cut me in two.” That was the awful truth-testing formula of the vil- lege children. “Course you have,” said Matilda, with indignant backward glances at the others. “Le’s go and get that Baldwin apple.” Comfort went with Matilda, but it took more than a Baldwin apple to solace her, and her first day at school was a most un- happy one. It was very probable that the other scholars, and especially the older ores, who had many important matters of “She Has Got a Gold Ring,” She Cried. their own in mind, thought little more about her and her gold ring, after school had begun, but Comfort could not under- stand that. She had a feeling that the minds of the whole school were fixed upon her, and she was staniling upon a sort of spiritual platform of shame, which was much worse than the school room floor. If she saw one girl whisper to another she directly thought it was about her. If a girl looked at her her color rose and her heart began to beat loud, for she though: she was saying to herself, “Likely stor: Comfort was thankful when it was time to go home, and she could trudge off alone down the snowy road. None o€ the others lived her way. She left them all at the turn of the road, just below the school- house. “Good night, Comfort,’ Matilda Stebbins sang out loyally, but the big girl with red cheeks followed her with, “Wear that gold ring to school tomorrow an’ let us see it.” Then everybody giggled, and poor Comfort fied out of sight. It seemed to her that she must wear that ring to school the next day. She made up her mind that she would ask her mother, but when she got home she found that her Grandmother Atkins had come, and also her Uncle Ebenezer and Aunt Susan. They had driven over from Barre, where they lived, and her grand- mother was going to stay and make a little visit, but her uncle and aunt were going home soon, and her mother was hurrying to make some hot biscuits for supper. So when Comfort came in she was stop- ped short at the sight of the company, and had to kiss tnem all and answer their questions with shy* politeness. Comfort was very fond of her grandmother, but this time she did not feel quite so delighted to see her as usual. As soon as she had got a chance she slipped into the pantry after her mother. “Mother,” she whis- pered, pulling her apron softly, “can’t I wear my gold ring to school tomorrow?” “No, you can’t. How many times have I got to tell you?” said her mother, mix- ing the biscuit dough energetically. “Please let me, mother. ‘They didn’t be- lieve I’ve got one.” “Let them believe it or not, just as they have a mind to,” said her mother. “They think I’m telling stories.” “What have you been telling about your ring in school for, when you ought to have been studying? Now, Comfort, I can’t have you standing there teasing me any longer. I've got to get these biscuits into the oven; they must have some supper before they go home. You go right out and set the table. Get the clean tablecloth out of the drawer, and you may put on the best knives ‘and forks. Not another word. You can’t wear that gold ring until your hand grows to it, and that settles it.” Comfort went out and set the table, but she looked so dejected that the company all noticed it. She could not eat any of the “Plense Let Me, Mother.” hot biscuits when they sat down to sup- per, and she did not eat much of the com- pany cake. “You don’t feel sick, do you, child?” asked her grandmother, anxiously. “No, ma’am,” replied Comfort, and she swallowed a big lump in her throat. “She ain’t sick,” said her mother, se- verely. “She’s fretting because she can’t wear her gcld ring to school.” “Oh, Comfort, you must wait till your hand grows to it,” said her Aunt Susan. “Yes, of course she must,” said her Uncle Ebenezer. “Eat your supper, and your hand will grow to it before long,” said her father, who, left to himself, would have let Com- fort wear the ring. “Tt wouldn't do for you to wear that ring and lose it. It’s real gold,” said her grand- mother. ‘Have another piece of the sweet- cake.” But Comfort wanted no more sweetcake. She vut both hands to her face and wept, and her mother sent her promptly out of the room and to bed. Comfort lay there and sobbed, and heard her Uncle Ebene- zer’s covered wagon roll out of the yard, ard sobbed again. Then she fell asleep, and did not know it when her mother and grandmother came in, and looked at her and_ kissed her. ‘m sorry she feels so bad,” said Com- fort’s mother, “but I can’t let her wear that ring.” “No, you can’t,” said her grandmother; and they went out, shading the candle. Ccmfort said no more about the ring the next morning. She knew her mother too well. She did not eat much break- fast, and crept off miserably to school at a quarter past eight, and she had an- other unhappy day. Nobody had for- gotten about the gold ring. She was teased about it at every opportunity. “Why didn’t you wear that handsome gold ring?” asked the big girl with red cheeks, until poor Comfort got nearly distracted. It seemed to her that the time to go home would never come, and as if she could never endure to go to school again. That night she begged her mother to let her stay at home the next day. “No,” said her mother. “You've begun to go to school, and you're going to sehool unless yeu're sick. Now, this evening you had better sit down and write a letter to your Aunt Comfort. It’s a long time since you wrote to her.” So Comfort sat down and wrote labori- ously a letter to her Aunt Comfort and thanked her anew, as she always did, for her gold ring and the gold dollar. “I wish to express my thanks again for the beauti- ful and valuable gifts, which you presented me for my name,” wrote Comfort in the little stilted style of the day. After the letter was written o'clock, and Comfort’s mother had better go to bed. “You look tired out,” said she. you'll have to go to bed early going to school.” “Can't I stay at home mother,” pleaded Comfort, it was 8 said she “I guess if you're tomorrow, with sudden said her mother. go if you're able.” “Mother, can’t I wear it just once?” on’t you bring that ring up again,” said her mother. “Take your candle and go right upstairs.”” Comfort gave a pitiful little sob. “Now don’t you go to crying over it,” ordered her mother, and Comfort tried to choke back another sob as she went out of the room. Comfort’s father looked up from the Old Farmer's Almanac. He was going to Bolton the next day with a load of wood and wanted to see what the weather was to be, and so was consulting the almanac. “What was it Comfort wanted?” he in- quired. “She wanted to wear that gold ring her Aunt Comfort gave her to school,” replied Mrs. Pease. “And I’ve told her over and over again I shouldn't let her do it.” “It's a mile too big for her, and she'd be sure to lose it off,” said Grandmother Atkins, “and it would be a pity to have anything happen to it, when it’s real gold, too.”” “You've got to “She couldn't wind a rag round her finger under it, could she?” asked Com- fort’s father, hesitatingly. “Wear a rag round her finger under it,” repeated Mrs. Pease. “I rather guess she can wait till her finger grows to it. You'd let that child do anything.” Mr. Pease did not say anything more, but ‘studied the Old Farmer's Almanac again and found out that it was likely to be fair weather for the season. It was past midnight, and the hearth fire was raked down, and Comfort’s father and mother and grandmother were all in bed and asleep, when a little figure in a white nightgown, holding a lighted candle, padding softly on Ittle cold bare feet, came down the stairs. Comfort paused in the entry and listened. She could hear the clock tick and her father snore. The best parlor door was on tHe right. She lifted the brass latch cautiously and pushed the door open. Then she stole into the best parlor. The close icy air smote her like a breath from the north pole. ‘There was no fire in the best parlor except on Thanks- giving day, and perhaps twice besides, when there was company to tea, from fall to spring. The cold therein seemed con- densed and concentrated, the haircloth sofa and chairs and the mahogany table seemed to give out cold as stoves did heat. There were two coffin plates and funeral wreaths, which had belonged to uncles of Comfort, who had died before she was born, in frames on the wall, and these always scared Comfort. She kept her eyes away from them as she went swiftly in her little bare feet, which had no feeling in them as they pressed the ley flcor, across to the mahogany card table, whereon set the rosewood work box. Comfort set her candle or: the table, and turned the key of the box with her stiff fingers. Then she raised the lid noiselessly and there lay the ring in a little square compartment of the tray—next to it in the corner square lay the gold dollar. Comfort took the ring out, shut the box lid down, turned the key, and fled. She thought some one called her name as she went upstairs, and she stopped and listen- ed, but all heard was the clock ticking, and her father snoring, and her heart beat. ing. Then she kept on to her own chamber, and put out her eandle, and crept into her feather bed, under the patchwork quilts. There she lay all night, wide-awake, with the gold ring clasped tightly in her little cold fist. CHAPTER IIT. When Comfort came down stairs the next morning there was a bright red spot cn each cheek, and she was trembling as if she had a chill. Her mother noticed it and asked her if she was cold, and Comfort said: “Yes, ma’am.”” “Well, draw your stool up close to the fire and get warm,” said her mother. “Breakfast is mest ready. You can have some of these pancakes to carry to school for your dinner.” Comfort sat soberly in the chimney cor- ner until breakfast was :ready, as her mother bade her. She was very silent and did not say anything during breakfast, unless some one asked her’ question. When she started for ‘school,. her mother and grandmother steod insthe window and watched her. It was a very cold morning, and Mrs. Pease had put her green:shawl on Com- fort over her coat, and the dittle girl look- ed very short and<stout-as she trudged along between the'-snow< ridges which bordered the path, and yet there was a forlorn air about her. “I don’t know as the child was fit to go perio today,” Mrs, Pease said doubt- ‘ully. z “She didn’t look very well, and she didn’t eat much breakfast, either,” said Grandmother Atkins, “She was always crazy after hot pan- cakes, too,” said her mother. “Hadn’t you better call her back, Em'ly?” “No, I won't,” said Mrs. Pease, turning away from the window. “She's begun to go to school, and I’m not going to take her out unless I'm sure she ain't able to go.”” So Comfcrt Pease went on to school and she had the gold ring in her pocket, which was tied around her waist with a string under her dress skirt, as was the fashion then. Comfort often felt of the pocket to be sure the ring was safe as she went alorg. It was bitterly cold, the snow creaked under her stout shoes. Besides the green shawl, her red tippet_ was wound twice arourd her neck and face, but her blue eyes peering over it were full of tears which the frosty wind forced int~ them, and her breath came short and quick When she came in sight of the school- house she could see the straight column of smoke rising out of the chimney, it was so thin in the cold air. There were no scholars out in the yard, only a group com- ing down the road in the opposite direction. It was too cold to play out of doors be- fore school as usual. Comfort pulled off her mittens, thrust her hand inher pocket, dangling against her blue woolen petticoat, and drew out the gold ring. Then she slipped it on over the third and fourth fingers of her left hand, put her mittens on again and went on. It was quite still in the school house, al- though school had not begun, because Miss Tabitha Hanks had arrived. Her spare form, stiff and wide, and perpendicular as a board, showed above the desk. She wore a purple merino dress buttoned down the front with hard black buttons, and a great breastpin of twisted gold. Her hair was looped down over her ears in two folds like shiny drab satin. It scarcely looked like hair, the surface was so smooth and unbroken, and a great tortoise sheel comb topped it like a coronet. Miss Tabitha’s nose was red and rasped with the cold, her thin lips were blue and her bony hands were numb, but she set copies in the writing book with stern pa- tience. Not one to yield to a little fall in temperature was Tabitha Hanks. More- over, she kept a sharp eye on the school, and she saw every scholar who entered, while not seeming to do so. She saw Comfort Pease when she came stepping shyly in, and at once noticed something peculiar about her. Comfort wore the same red thibet dress and the same gingham apron that she had worn the day before, her brown hair was comb- ed off her high, serious forehead and braid- ed in the same smooth tails, her blue eyes looked abroad in the same sober and timid fashion, and yet there was a change. Miss Tabitha gave a quick frown and a sharp glance of her gray eyes at her, then she continued setting her copy. ‘hat child’s up to something,” she thought, while she wrote out in her beautiful shad- ed_ hand: “All is rot gold that glitters.” Comfort went forward to the stove,which was surrounded by a ring of girls and boys. Matilda Stebbins and Rosy were there with the rest. Matilda moved aside at once when she saw Ccmfort and made room for her near the stove. “Hullo, Comfort Pease,” said she. “Hullo,” returned Comfort. Comfort held her numb right hand to the stove, but the other she kept clenched in a little blue fist hidden in her dress folds. “Cold, ain't it?" said Matilda. “Dreadful,” said Comfort, with a shiver. “Why don’t you warm both your hands?” asked Matilda. » “My other hand ain’t cold,” said Com- fort, and she really did not think it was. She was not aware of any sensation in that hand except that of the gold ring binding together the third and fourth fin- gers. Pretty soor the big girl with red cheeks came in. Her cheeks were redder than ever, and her black eyes seemed to have caught something of the sparkle of the frost Gutside. ‘‘Hullo,” said she, when she caught sight of Comfort. “That you, Com- fort Pease?” “Hullo,” Comfort returned faintly. She was dreadfully afraid of this big girl, who was as much as sixteen years old and studied algebra, and was also said to have a beau. “Got that gold ring?” inquired the big girl, with a giggle, as she held out her hands to the stove. Comfort looked at her as if she -were going to cry. “You're real mean to tease her, so there!” said Matilda Stebbins, bravely, in the face of the big girl, who persisted, nevertheless. “Got that gold ring?’ she asked again, with her teasing giggle,which the others echoed. Comfort slowly raised her left arm. She unfolded her little blue fist, and there on the third and fourth fingers of her hand shone the gold ring. Then there was such an outcry that Miss Tabitha Hanks looked up from her copy and kept her wary eyes fixed on the group at the stove. “My sakes alive! Look at Comfort Pease with a gold ring on two fingers!” screamed the big girl, and all the rest joined in. ‘The other scholars in the room came crowding up to-the stove. ‘“‘Le’s see it,” they demanded of Comfort. They teased her to let them take it. ‘Lem me take it for just a minute? I'll give it right back, honest,” they begged, but Comfort was firm about that; she would not let that ring go from her own two fingers for one minute. “Ain't she stingy with her old ring?” said Sarah Allen tc Rosy Stebbins. “May- be it ain't real gold,” whispered Rosy, but Comfort heard her. “‘’Tis, too!” said she, stoutly. “It’s brass, I can tell by the color,” teas- ed one of the big boys; “’fore I'd wear a brass rmg if I was a girl.” “It ain't brass!’ almost sobbed Comfort. Miss Tabitha Hanks arose slowly and came over to the stove. She came so si- lently and secretly that the scholars did not notice it, and they all jumped when she spoke. “You may all take your seats,” sald she, “if it is a little before nine. You can study until school begins. I can’t have so much noise and confusion.” The scholars flocked discontentedly to their seats. “It’s all the fault of your old brass ring,” whispered the big boy to Com- fort, with a malicious grin, and she trem- bled. “Your mother let you wear it, didn’t she?” whispered Matilda to Comfort as the two took their seats in the bench. But Comfort did not seem to hear her, and Miss Tabitha looked that way, and Matilda dared not whisper again. Miss Tabitha, moreover, looked as though she had heard what she said, although that did not seem possible. However, Miss Tabitha’s ears had a rep- utation among the scholars for almost as fabulous powers as her eyes. Matilda Steb- bins was quite sure, she heard, and Miss Tabitha’s after course confirmed her opin- ion. ‘The reading class was out 6n the floor fix- ing its toes on the line when Miss Tabitha walked behind it straight ‘to Comfort. “Comfort Pease,” said she, “I don’t be- lieve your mother éver sent you to school wearing a ring after that fashion. You may take it off.” Comfort took it: off. The eyes of the whole school watched her; even the read- ing class looked over its shoulders. “Now,” said Miss Tabitha, “put it in your pocket.” Comfort put the ring in‘her pocket. Her face was flushing redder ‘and redder, and the tears rolled down ker cheeks. Miss Tabitha drew out a large pin,which was quilted into the bosom of her dress, and proceeded to pin up Comfort’s pocket. “There,” said she. “Now you leave that ring in there and don’t you touch it till you go home, then you give it right to your mother. And don’t you take that pin out; if you do I shall whip you.” Miss Tabitha turned suddenly on the reading class, and the faces went about with a jerk. “Turn to the fifty-sixth page,” she commanded, and the books all rustled open as she went to the front. Matilda gave Comfort a sympathizing poke and Miss Tabitha an indignant scowl under cover of the reading class, but Com- fort sat still with the tears dropping down on her spelling book. She had never felt so guilty and so humble in her life. She made up her mind she would tell her mother about it end put the ring back in the box that night and never take it out again until her finger grew to it, and {f it never did she would try to be resigned. When it was time for recess Miss Ta- bitha sent them all out of doors. “I know it’s cold,” said she, “but a little fresh air won't hurt any of you. You can run around and keep warm.” Poor Comfort dreaded to-go out. She knew just how the boys and girls would tease her. But Matilda Stebbins stood by her, and the two hurried out before the others, and ran together down the road. “We've got time to run down to the old Loomis place and back before the bell rings,” said Matilda. “If you stay here they’ll all tease you dreadfully to show that ring, and if you do she'll whip you. She always does what she says she will.” The two girls got back to the school house just as the bell rung, and beyond sundry elbow nudges and teasing whispers, as they went in, Comfort had no trouble. She took her seat and meekly opened her geography. Once in a while she wondered, with a qualm of anxiety, if her ring was safe. She dare not even feel of her pocket under her dress. Whenever she thought of it Miss Tabitha seemed to be looking straight at her. Poor Comfort had a feeling that Miss Tabitha could see her very thoughts. The Stebbinses and Sarah Allen usually stayed at noon, but that day they all went home. Sarah Allen had company, and the Stebbinses had a chicken dinner. So Com- fort stayed alone. The other scholars lived near epough the school house to go home every ‘day unless it was very stormy weather. After everybody was gone, Miss Tabitha and all, the first thing Comfort did was to slide her hand down over the bottom of her pocket. and carefully feel of it under her dress skirt. Her heart gave a great leap and seemed R stand still—she could not feel any ring ere, CHAPTER Iv. Comfort felt again and again, with trembling fingers. She could not believe that the ring was gone, but she certainly could not feel it. She was quite pale, and shook as if she had a chill. She was too frightened to cry. Had she lost Aunt Com- fort’s ring—the real gold ring she had given her for her name? She looked at the pin which Miss Tabitha had quilted into the top of her pocket, but she dared not take it out. Suppose Miss Tabitha should ask if she had, and she had to tell her and be whipped! That would be almost worse than losing the ring. Comfort had never been whipped in her “My tooth aches dreadfully,” Comfort. “You had better have some cotton wool and paregoric on it, then,” said her mother. Then she went downstairs for cotton wool and paregoric, and she ministered to Com- fort’s aching tooth, but no cotton wool nor paregoric was there for Comfort’s aching heart. She sobbed so biterly that her mother looked alarmed. “Comfort, look here, is there anything else the matter?’ she asked, suddenly, and she put her hand on Comfort's shoulder. “My tooth aches dreadfully, oh!” Comfort wailed. “If your tooth aches so bad as all that, you'd better go to Dr. Hujchins in the morning and have it out,” said her mother. “Now, you'd better lie still, and try to go to sleep, or you'll be sick.” Comfort’s sobs followed her mother all the way downstairs. “Don’t you cry 50 another minute or you'll get so nervous you'll be sick,” Mrs. Pease called back, but she sat down and cried awhile herself after she returned to the sitting room. Poor Comfort stifled her sobs under the patchwork quilts,but she could not stop cry- ing for a lond time, and she slept very little that night. When she did she dreamed that she had found the ring, but had to wear it around her aching tooth for punish- ment,and the tooth was growing larger and larger, and the ring painfully tighter and tighter. She looked so wan and ill next morning that her mother told her she need not go to school; but Comfort begged hard to go and said she did not feel sick, her tooth was better. “Well, mind you get Miss Hanks to ex- cuse you and come home jf your tooth aches again,” said her mother, “Yes, ma’am,” replied Comfort. ‘When the door shut behind Comfort, her Grandmother Atkins looked at her mother. “Emily,” said she, “I don’t believe you can carry it out, she'll be sick.” Z “I'm dreadfully afraid she will,” returned Ccmfort’s mother. “You'll have to tell her.” Mrs. Pease turned on Grandmother At- kirs, and New England motherhood w: strong in her face. “Mother,” said she, “I don’t want Comfort to be sick, and she shan’t be, if I can help it, but I've got a duty to her that’s beyond looking out for her health. She’s got a lesson to learn that’s more important than any she’s got sobbed “GOT THAT-.GOLD RING?’ SHE ASKED AGAIN. life, and her blood ran cold at the thought of it. She kept feeling wildly of the pocket. There was a little roll of writing paper in it, some leaves of an old account book, which her mother had given her to write on. All the hope she had was that the ring had slipped inside that, and that was the reason why she could not feel it. She longed so to take out that pin and make sure, but she had to wait for that until she got home at night. Comfort began to search all over the school room floor, but all she found were wads of paper and apple cores, slate pencil stumps and pins. Then she went out in the yard and looked carefully; then she went down the road to the old Loomis place, where she and Matilda had walked at re- cess. Miss Tabitha Hanks went home that way, but no sign of the ring could she find. The road was as smooth as a white floor, too, for the snow was old and well trodden. Comfort Pease went back to the school house, and opened her dinner pail. She looked miserably at the pancakes, the bread and butter, and the apple pie and cheese, and tried to eat, but she could not. She put the cover on the pail, leaned her head on the desk in front, and sat quite still until the scholars began to return. Then she lifted her head, got out her spell- ing book and tricd to study. Miss Tabitha came back early, so nobody dared tease her, and the cold was so bitter, and the sky so overcast, that they were obliged to go out at recess. Comfort studied and recited, and never a smile came on her pale, sober, little face. Matilda whispered to know if she were sick, but Comfort only shook her head. Sometimes Comfort saw Miss Tabitha watching her with an odd expression, and she wondered forlornly what it meant. She did not dream of going to Miss Tabitha with her trouble: She felt quite sure she would get no sympathy in that quarter. All the solace Comfort had was that one little forlorn hope that the ring might be in that roll of paper, and she should find it when she got home. It seemed to her that school never would be done. She thought wildly of asking Miss Tabitha if she could not go home, because she had the toothache. Indeed, her tooth did begin to ache, and her head, too, but she waited and sped home like a rabbit when she was let out at last. She did not wait even to say a word to Matilda. Com- fort, when she got home, went right through the sitting room and up stairs to her own chamber. “Where are you going, Comfort?’ her mother called after her. “What ails the child?” said Grandmother Atkins. “I'm coming right back,” Comfort panted as she fled. The minute she was in her own little cold chamber she took the pin from her pocket, drew forth the roll of paper and smoothed it out—the ring was not there. Then she turned the pocket and examined it. There was a little rip in the seam. “Comfort, Comfort,” called her mother from the foot of the stairs. “You'll get your death of cold up there,” chimed in her grandmother from the room beyond. “I'm coming,” Comfort gasped in reply. She turned the pocket back and went down stairs. It was odd that, although Comfort look- ed so disturbed, neither her mother nor grandmother asked her what was the mat- ter. They looked at her, then exchanged a meaning look with each other. And all her mother said was to bid her go and sit down by the fire and toast her feet. She aiso mixed a bowl of hot ginger tea, plen- tifully sweetened with molasses, and bade She Lifted the Brass Catch Cautiously her drink that so she could not catch cold, and yet there was something strange in ber manner all the time. She made no re- rrark, either, when she opened Comfort’s dinner pail and saw how little had been eaten. She merely showed it silently to Grandmother Atkins’ behind Comfort’s back, and they nodded to each other with solemn meaning. However, Mrs. Pease made the cream tcast that Comfort loved for supper, and obfiged her to eat a whole plate of it. “I can’t have her get sick,” she said to Grandmother Atkins, after Comfort had gone to bed that night. “She ain’t got enough constitution, poor child,” assented Grandmother Atkins. Mrs. Pease opened the door and listened. “I believe she’s crying now,” said she. “I ess I'll go up there.” “I would if I was you,” said Grandmother Atkins. Comfort’s sobs sounded louder and louder all the way, as her mother went upstairs. “What's the matter, child?” she asked when she opened the door, and there was still something strange in her tone. While there was concern, there was certainly no surprise. in school, and I’m afraid she won't iearn it at all, unless she learns it by the hardest Way, and it won't do for me to help her.” “Well, I suppose you're right, Em'ly,” said Grandmother Atkins, “but I declare I'm dreadfully sorry for the child.” “You ain’t any sorrier than I am,” said Comfort's mother, and she wiped her eyes now and then, as she cleared away the breakfast dishes. As for Comfort, she went on her way to school, looking as industriously and anx- jously at the ground as if she were a little robin seeking for her daily food. Under the snowy blackberry vines peered Comfort, under frozen twigs, and in the blue hollows of the snow, seeking, as it were, in the lit- tle secret places of nature for her own little secret of childish vanity and dis- obedience. It made no difference to her that it was not reasonable to look on that part of the road, since she could not have Jost the ring there. She had a desperate hope, which was not affected by reason at all, and she determined to look everywhere. It was very cold still, and when she came in sight of the school house, not a scholar was to be seen. Either they had not arrived or were huddling over the red- hot stove inside. Comfort trudged past the school house and went down the road to the old Loomis Bat There Was No Gleam of Gold on Its White, Frozen Surface. place. She searched again every inch of the road, but there ‘was no gleam of gold in its white frozen surface. There was the cold sparkle of the frost crystals, and that was all. 5 Comfort went back. At the turn of that road she saw Matilda Stebbins coming down the other. The pink tip of Matilda’s nese and her winking black eyes just ap- peared above her red tippet. “Hullo!” she sang out, in a muffled voice. “Hullo” responded Comfort, faintly. Ma- tilda looked at her curiously when she came up. “What's the matter?” said she. “Nothing,” replied Comfort. “I thought you acted funny. What have you been up that road for?” Comfort walked along beside Matilda in silence. “What have you been up that road for?” repeated Matilda. Von’t you ever tell?” said Comfort. “No, I won't, honest and true, black and blue, lay me down and cut me in two.” “Well, I've lost it.” Matilda knew at once what Comfort meant. “You ain’t,” she cried, stopping short and opening wide eyes of dismay at Comfort over the red tippet. “Yes, I have.” “Where'd you lose it?” “I felt of my pocket after I got back to school yesterday, after we'd been up to the oe Loomis house, and I couldn’t find the Ing. “My!” said Matilda. Comfort gave a stifled sob. Matilda turned short around with a jerk. “Le’s go up that road and hunt again,” said she, ‘‘there’s plenty of time before the bell rings. Come along, Comfort Pease.” So the two little girls went up the road, and hunted, but they did not find the ring. “Nobody would have picked it up and kept it, everybody round here is honest,” said Matilda. “It’s dreadfully funny.” Comfort wept painfully under the folds ne a mother’s green shawl, as they went ack, “Did your mother scold you?” asked Ma- tilda. There was something very innocent and sympathizing and honest about Matil- da’s black eyes as she asked the question. “No,” faltered Comfort. She did not dare to tell Matilda that her mother knew nothing at all about it. Matilda, as they went along, put an arm ground Comfort, under her shawl. “Don't ery, it’s too bad,” said she. But Comfort wept harder. “Look here,” said Matilda. “Comfort, your mother wouldn't let you buy another ring with that gold dollar, would she?” “That gold dollar’s to keep,” sobbed Com- fort, “it ain’t to spend.” And indeed she felt as if spending that gold dollar would be almost as bad as losing the ring; the bare idea of it horrified her. “Well, I didn’t s’pose it was,” said Matil- da, abashedly. “I just happened to think of it.” Suddenly she gave Comfort a little poke with her red-mittened hand. “Don’t you cry another minute, Comfort Pease,” she cried, “I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll ask my Uncle Jared to give me a gold dol- lar, and then I'll give it to you to buy a ld ring. don’t believe he will,” sobbed Comfort. ‘Yes, he will. He always gives me every- thing I ask him for. He thinks more of me than he does of Rosy and Imogen, you know, ‘cause he was going to get married once, when he was young, and she died, and I look like her.” . “Were you named after her?” inquired Comfort. “No; her name was Ann Maria, but I look like her. Uncle Jared will give me a gold dollar and I'll ask him to take us to Bolton in his sleigh Saturday afternoon, and then you can buy another ring. Don’t you cry another mite, Comfort Pease.” And poor Comfort tried to keep the tears back, as the bell began to ring, and she and Matilda hastened to the schoolhouse. Matilda put up her hand and whispered to her in school time. “‘You come over to my house Saturday afternoon, and I'll get Uncle Jared to take us,” she whispered, and Comfort nodded soberly. Comfort tried to learn her arithmetic lesson, but she could not remember the seven multiplica- tion table, and said in the class that five times seven were fifty-seven, and went to the foot. She cried at that, and felt a curious satisfaction in having something to cry for beside the loss of the ring. Comfort did not look any more for the ring that day nor the next. The next day was Friday, and Matilda met her at school in the morning with an air of triumph. She plunged her hand deep in her pocket and drew it out closed in a tight pink fist. “Guess what I've got in here, Comfort Pease,” said she. She unclosed her fingers a little at a time, until‘a gold dollar was visible in the hollow of her palm. “There, what did I tell you?” she ‘said; “and he says he’ll take us to Bolton, if he don’t have to go to Ware to see about buying a horse. You come over tomorrow, right after dinner.” The next morning after breakfast Com- fort asked her mother if she might go over to Matilda’s that afternoon. “Do you feel fit to go?” her mother said, with a keen look at her. Comfort was pale and sober and did not have much appetite. It had struck her several times that her mother’s and also her grandmotker’s man- ner toward her was a little odd, but she did not try to understand it. “Yes, ma’am,” said Comfort. “‘What are you going to do over there?” Comfort hesitated, a pink flush came on her face and neck, her mother's eyes upon her were sharper than ever. “Matilda said maybe her Uncle Jared would take us a sleigh ride to Bolton,” she faltered. “Well,” said her mother, “if you’re going a sleigh-ride, you'd better take some yarn stockings and pull on over your shoes, and wear my fur tippet. It’s most too cold to go sleigh-riding, anyway.” . Directly after dinner Comfort went over to Matilda Stebbins’, with her mother’s stone marten tippet around her neck, and the blue yarn stockings, to wear in the sleigh, under her arm. But when she got to the Stebbins’ house Matilda met her at the door with a crest- fallen air. “Only think,? said she, “ain't it too bad? Uncle Jared’s had to go to Ware to buy the horse, and we can’t go to Bolton.” Comfort looked at her piteously. “Guess I'd better go home,” said she. But Matilda was gazing at her doubt- fully. ‘Look here,” said she. “What,” said Comfort. “It ain’t more’n three miles to Bolton. Mother’s walked there and so has Imo- Be ‘Do you s’pose—we could?” “I don’t believe it would hurt us one mite —sfay, I tell you what we can do—I’ll take my sled and I'll drag you a spell, and then you can drag me, and that will rest both of us, anyhow.” “So it will,” said Comfort. CHAPTER V. But Matilda looked doubtful again. “There's only one thing,” she said. “Mother ain’t at home. She and Rosy went over to grandma's to spend the day this morning and I can’t ask her. I don’t see how I can go without asking her, exactly.” Comfort thought miserably: “What would Matilda Stebbins say if she knew I took that ring, when my mother told me not to? “Well,” said Matilda, brightening, “I don’t know but it will do just as well it I ask Imogen. Mother told me once that if there was anything very important come up when she was away that I could ask Imogen.” Imogen was Matilda’s oldest sister. She was almost eighteen, and she was going to a party that night, and was hurrying to finish a beautiful crimson thibet dress to wear. “Now, don’t you talk to me and hinder me one moment. I’ve everything I can do to finish this dress to wear to the party.” she said, when Matilda and Comfort went into the sitting rcom. “Can't I go to Bolton with Comfort Pease, Imogen?” asked Matilda. “I thought you were going with Uncle Jared. Didn't mother say you might? Now, don't talk to me, Matilda.” “Uncle Jared’s got to go to Ware to buy the horse, and he can’t take us.” “Oh, I forgot. Well, how can you go, then? You and Comfort had better sit down and play checkers and be contented.” “We could walk,” ventured Matilda. ‘Walk to Bolton! You couldn't.” “It's only three miles, and we'd drag each other on my sled.” Imogen frowned over a wrong pucker in the crimson thibet, and did not appreciate the absurdity of the last. “I do wish you wouldn’t bother me, Matilda,” said she. “If I don’t get this dress done I can’t gO to the party tonight. I don’t know what mother would say to your going to Bolton any such way.” “It wouldn’t hurt us one mite. go, Imogen.” “Well, Tl t you what you can do,” said Imogen. ou can walk over there; I guess it won't hurt you to walk one way, and then you can ride home in the stage coach. It comes over about half-past four. T'll_ give you some money.” “Oh! that’s beautiful. Thank you, Imo- cried Matilda, gratefully. yell, run along and don’t say another word to me,” said Imogen, scowling over the crimson thibet; “wrap up warm.” When they started Matilda insisted upon dragging Comfort first in the sle “TH drag’ you as far as Dr. Hutchins’ said she; “then you get off and drag me as far as the meeting hcuse. I guess that’s about even.” It was arduous, and it is probable the little girls were much longer reaching Bol- ton than they would have been had they traveled on their two sets of feet all the way, but they persuaded themselves other- wise. “We can’t be—a mite—tired,” panted Ma- tilda, as she tugged Comfort over the last Do let us way, and a mile and a half ain't anything. You walk that every day to school and back.” “Yes, I do,” assented Comfort. She could not believe that she was tired, either, al- though every muscle in her body ached. Bolton was a large town, and the people from all the neighboring villages went there to do their trading and shopping. There was a wide main street, with stores on each side, and that day it was full of sleighs and pungs and wood sleds, and there were so many people that Comfort felt frightened. She had never been to Bolton without her father or mother. “Just look at all the folks!’ said she, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that they all stared at her suspiciously, although she did not see how they could know about the ring. But Matilda was bolder. “It's such a pleasant day, they’re all out tradi,” said she. “Guess it'll storm tomorrow. Now we want to go to Gerrish’s. I went there once with mother and Imogen to buy a silver spoon for Cousin Hannah Green when she got married.” Comfort, trailing the sled behind her, started timidly after Matilda. Gerrish’s was a small store, but there was a large window full of watches and chains and clocks, and.a man with spec- tacles sat behind it, mending watches. The two littie girls went in and stood at the counter, and a thin man with gray whiskers, who was Mr. Gerrish himself, came forward to wait upon them. Matilda nudged Comfort. “You ask him; it’s your ring,” she whispered. But Comfort shook her head. She was almost ready to cry. “You'd ought to when I’m giving you the dollar,” whispered Ma- tilda, with another nudge. Mr. Gerrish stood waiting, and he frowned a little; he was a nervous man. ‘Ask him,” whispered Matilda, fiercely. Suddenly Comfort Pease turned herself atout and ran out of Gerrish’s with a great wail of inarticulate words about not want- ing any ring. The door banged violently after her. Matilda Stebbins looked after her in a bewildered w then she looked up at Mr. Gerrish, who was frowning harder. “If you girls don’t want anything, you'd better stay out of doors with your sled,” said he. And Matilda trembled and gathered up the sled rope, and the door banged after her. Then Mr. Gerrish said something to the man mending watches in the window, and went back to his desk in the rear of the store. Matilda could just see Comfort running down the street toward home, and she ran after her. She could run faster than Com- fort. As she got nearer she could see peo- ple turning and looking curiously after Comfort, and when she came up to her she saw she was crying. “Why, you great baby, Comfort Pease,” said she, “going along the road crying. Comfort sobbed harder, and people stared more and more curiously. Finally, one stout woman in a black velvet bonnet stopped. “I hope you haven't done any- thing to hurt this other little girl?” she said suspiciously to Matilda. “No, ma’am, I ain’t,” replied Matilda. _ “What's the matter, child?” said the wo- man in the black velvet bonnet to Com-