MEG'S NEW YEAR DOUGHNUTS.
By Emma S. Bromley
It was the custom in the little village way down in Massachusetts where Meg lived to celebrate the New Year by standing on the main street and saying to every passer-by, "Wish you a happy New Year; give me a cent." All the children did it as their fathers and mothers had done before them—that is, if they were born or had lived in the same town when they were small. So one frosty January first, Meg stood in front of a big store window and greeted every one who came along with, "Wish you a happy New Year; give me a cent." Some noticed her and gave her the copper; others merely smiled and passed on; while the majority hastened by without even a look at the wee girl. At last a man came along who knew Meg, and when she gave him her salutation, he said, "Wish you the same, Meg; come along home with me and we will see about the cent." His tone was so pleasant that she readily gave up the possible opportunities for getting more pennies, and went with him. Only a short distance down the street she followed him up the steps and into a house which seemed to her very elegant, altho it was but a laborer's tidy home. The gentleman called out, "Here, wife, I want to introduce you to my friend;" and as the lady came in sight, he turned to the dirty-faced child and said, "There, Meg, that is Mrs. Lazell," and left them to get acquainted. She had come in from the kitchen at her husband's call, and her hands were white with flour, showing what her occupation had been, so she returned to her work, but not before she had placed a chair near the great range and had Meg seated with a plate in her lap containing three crisp, hot doughnuts, while a fourth brown and white ring was rapidly disappearing. Both were busy, and not much talking was done. One after the other the doughnuts disappeared and two more were added to the number. When one bite had been taken from the sixth one, the child seemed to have a desire to say something, and yet hardly knew what she really wanted to say. To tell the truth this last doughnut was almost more than she could eat, and she began to think of what Andy, the bootblack, told her of a great supper he had attended and how they had doughnuts and cheese; perhaps a piece of cheese would make this last doughnut taste better. So when the kind lady stopped to see what was the matter with her little guest, Meg looked up suddenly, and in a most matter-of-fact manner said, "Cheese is pretty scarce this year, ain't it, Mrs. Lazell?" Such a merry laugh as the amused hostess had over the droll question, but finally she managed to say, "I guess a glass of milk will make it go all right," and so it did. Some pleasant talk was enjoyed after the lunch was disposed of, and Mrs. Lazell had a chance to say many kind words and to drop the seeds of truth in the young heart, so that when Meg went back to her home in the tenement block she was happier than when she left it in the morning. But she did not mistrust that this hour's experience was a ray of brightness which should influence her whole life, and yet so it was. But most remarkable of all was the fact that many times the weary woman, trying not to complain when the way seemed comfortless, trying to overcome some difficulty, would think of the philosophy of little Meg, and would smile as she said to herself, "Cheese is pretty scarce this year, ain't it, Mrs. Lazell?" EMMA S. BROMLEY.