p. 12 | DOROTHY'S KEY by Minnie E. Kenney

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · May 20, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 19.

DOROTHY'S KEY.

By Minnie E. Kenney

"I WANT that book. Give me that book, Jack," exclaimed Dorothy.

"Well, so do I want it, too," responded her brother. "You've got to wait till I've finished with it."

Dorothy's face wrinkled up as if she was about to cry, but just then she saw her aunt coming downstairs in her outdoor costume, and a new thought diverted her mind.

"Oh, I'm going down street, too, Aunt Gracie. You've got to take me, too, so you have. Now you just wait till I get ready."

"No, I can't," answered Aunt Grace, opening the street-door and passing out.

Dorothy threw herself down on the stairs in a perfect passion of tears.

"Oh, dear, everybody is ugly and cross to me!" she fretted. "They never will do as I want them to, and I think it's mean."

Nobody noticed her tears, so after a little while she dried her eyes and went down into the kitchen to see what she could find to amuse her there.

Cook was making a pie for dessert, and rolling out the crust in delicate layers.

"Oh, I want to make me a little pie," exclaimed Dorothy. "Bridget, give me a little piece of dough to roll out with my little rolling-pin."

"I can't just now," answered Bridget. "The oven's hot and I must make haste. Wait till I'm done and I'll save ye a bit."

"No, I won't wait. I've got to have it right away, this minute," fretted Dorothy. "Give it to me now, Bridget. I want it."

"Well, you shan't have it at all if you can't have a little patience," answered Bridget, and so Dorothy began to snatch at the dough in an effort to break off a piece for herself. Bridget picked her up in her strong hands and carried her out into the hall, where she put her down, returning into the kitchen quickly and locking the door behind her.

"Let me in! Let me in!" screamed Dorothy, pounding at the door, but Bridget began to sing and would not pay any attention to the little girl.

"Dorothy! come upstairs!" called her mother, "I have something nice to tell you."

Dorothy ran eagerly upstairs to hear what her mother had to tell her, and when she heard what it was she was so glad that all the frowns on her face vanished as suddenly as if a fairy flat-iron had been smoothed over it, and she began to clap her hands and jump up and down in delight.

Dorothy was an only daughter, and she had always longed for a little sister, so she was very happy when she heard that her little Cousin May was coming the next morning to pass a month with her.

May had not been there many days before Dorothy noticed that it was very seldom her little cousin was refused anything, and she wondered why even Bridget was always willing to stop, no matter how busy she might be, to give May anything she might ask for.

"May, what makes people so good to you?" she asked abruptly one day. "When I want anything everybody is always too busy to give it to me, yet they will do anything for you."

"I suppose it's because I've got a little key," May answered.

"A little key?" Dorothy asked in surprise.

"Yes," answered May, smiling at her little cousin's bewildered face. "Mamma told me about a little key to use whenever I want a favor, and it almost always makes people do it for me."

"How funny!" exclaimed Dorothy. "Won't you lend me your little key, May?"

"Always say 'please,' and that is the key to win favors," May answered.

"Is that all it is?" asked Dorothy rather scornfully, but she tried it nevertheless, and she found it was just as May had said.

A little girl who said "please" politely when she wanted a favor was far more apt to be gratified than a child who cried fretfully, "I want that. Give me this."

Won't some of my little readers try Dorothy's key?—Minnie E. Kenney, in Occident.