An Old-fashioned Girl by Louisa M. Alcott

little Jane lent it a tender pathos which no art could give. It did

them all good, for music is a beautiful magician, and few can resist

its power. The girls were touched by the appeal; Polly was lifted

out of herself, and when she turned round, the softened look on all

the faces told her that for the moment foolish differences and

frivolous beliefs were forgotten in the one womanly sentiment of

pity for the wrongs and woes of which the listeners’ happy lives

were ignorant.

“That song always makes me cry, and feel as if I had no right to be

so comfortable,” said Belle, openly wiping her eyes on a crash

towel.

“Fortunately such cases are very rare,” said another young lady,

who seldom read the newspapers.

“I wish they were, but I ‘m afraid they are not; for only three weeks

ago, I saw a girl younger than any of us, and no worse, who tried to

destroy herself simply because she was so discouraged, sick, and

poor,” said Polly.

“Do tell about her,” cried Belle, eagerly.

Feeling that the song had paved the way for the story, and given

her courage to tell it, Polly did tell it, and must have done it well,

for the girls stopped work to listen, and when she ended, other eyes

beside warm-hearted Belle’s were wet. Trix looked quite subdued;

Miss Perkins thawed to such a degree, that something glittered on

her hand as she bent over the pink pinafore again, better and

brighter than her biggest diamond; Emma got up and went to Polly

with a face full of affectionate respect, while Fanny, moved by a

sudden impulse, caught up a costly SSvres plate that stood on the

etagSre, and laying a five-dollar bill in it, passed it round, quoting

Polly’s words, “Girls, I know you ‘ll like to help poor little Jenny

‘begin again, and do better this time.’ ”

It was good to see how quickly the pretty purses were out, how

generously each gave of its abundance, and what hearty applause

broke from the girls, as Belle laid down her gold thimble, saying

with an April face, “There, take that; I never have any money,

somehow it won’t stay with me, but I can’t let the plate pass me this

time.”

When Fanny brought the contributions to Polly, she just gathered it

up in her two hands with such a glad, grateful face, the girls

wished they had had more to give.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, with an eloquent little choke

in her voice. “This will help Jenny very much; but the way in

which it was done will do her more good than double the money,

because it will prove to her that she is n’t without friends, and

make her feel that there is a place in the world for her. Let her

work for you in return for this; she don’t ask alms, she only wants

employment and a little kindness, and the best charity we can

bestow is to see that she has both.”

“I ‘ll give her as much sewing as she wants, and she can stay at our

house while she does it, if she needs a home,” said Trix, in a spasm

of benevolence.

“She does n’t need a home, thank you; Miss Mills has given half of

hers, and considers Jane her child,” answered Polly, with proud

satisfaction in the fact.

“What an old dear!” cried Belle.

“I want to know her. May I?” whispered Emma.

“Oh, yes; I ‘m glad to make her known to any one. She is a quiet

little old lady, but she does one heaps of good, and shows you how

to be charitable in the wisest way.”

“Do tell us about it. I ‘m sure I want to do my duty, but it ‘s such a

muddle, I don’t know how,” said Belle.

Then, quite naturally, the conversation fell upon the great work

that none should be too busy to think of, and which few are too

young or too poor to help on with their mite. The faces grew more

earnest, the fingers flew faster, as the quick young hearts and

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