A LITTLE THING WELL DONE.
ONE raw, windy day this spring, I sat down for a few minutes' rest, by a window looking out on the street. My head was tired as well as my feet, and the hoped-for repose was sadly disturbed by the swinging and snapping of a gate, on the opposite side of the street. Several persons passed along without noticing it, and then came two boys, of about ten or twelve years of age. They were walking briskly and talking to match, but as they came up to the gate, the one nearest to it lifted his hand, and with one firm, quiet motion put the latch into its place, and the thing was done, just as well done, as if he had stopped and looked at it, and taken a full minute at the operation. In the few quiet moments which followed, I thanked my unknown friend for his unconscious attention to my want, and somehow the act, simple as it was, followed me all day with its lessons and impressions. The lesson that a little thing, well done, is better than a large thing attempted and left unfinished. The impression that the boy who did that little deed, so well and almost unconsciously, must in all probability be a good boy. Now if it had been the minister, or the deacon, or some staid old lady passing by, it would not have been surprising, of course, but a boy! Why did he not give it a kick which would have caused it to rebound with the bang so dear to the boyish heart? No, my boy was evidently well brought up; one used to doing things about the house to help his mother; a boy who loves order, and does his work in the right time and place. What a treasure is such a boy or girl in the home! The thousand little acts of personal love and kindness and self-sacrifice, which a child has the opportunity to render its parents—the steps saved the tired mother, the story told to divert the fretful little one, above all a certain nameless grace, without which the kindest deeds lose their value, and with which the simplest word or act may have power to soothe the overtaxed nerves, and restore the cheerful tone to the wearied heart—all these are to be classed with the "cup of cold water," and for them there shall be a reward.—Examiner and Chronicle.