id="id00233">Barbara laughed quietly, by and by telling Grace that this new article of furniture was hers, made on purpose for her by Horace. Grace could hardly believe it, for even a small extension table requires much mechanical skill.

"O, but he has worked at it all the days for so long!" said Barbara, who was extremely proud of Horace.

Upon inquiry, she confessed that he had been to see the "tischler" (joiner) "two times," and that Robin had helped him a little.

"O, where's Horace?" cried Grace; "I want to see him this minute, to thank him for my beautiful present."

"Sound abed and asleep," replied the German girl, yawning.

When had Barby been known to sit up so late? Faithful creature, she had kept her sleepy eyes open for the sake of presenting this pretty table to Grace; for, as she said, "I just does like to hear her laugh!"

"Deary me," thought Grace, "if I'd spoken up pettishly when she bothered me so, I'd want to bite my tongue out! Reckon I know of something as good for my 'nervous system' as quinine; and that's patience."

CHAPTER IV.

A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.

Next morning, when Barbara was building the kitchen fire, she heard the sound of small boots, and, looking up, saw Horace, who had run down stairs in such haste that as yet he had put on but one sleeve of his jacket.

"Ho, Barby!"—Horace considered it a waste of breath to say "good morning,"—"what were the first words she said?"

"Let's me think," replied Barby, with an air of deep reflection.
"'Where did this thing came from?' Them's the first words she said."

"That all? Poh! If I'd known that, I wouldn't have touched to make it! Did you tell her Ike Davis couldn't? and he's learned the joiner's trade, too."

"There, now, if I didn't forget to say dat!"

"Why, Barby, I wouldn't have thought that of you, now!"

"But she liked it. She was just as pleased."

"Pleased, was she? Did she clap her hands?"

"Yes; clapped 'em hard, she did, and laughed."

"Will she put it in her cabinet, think, Barby?"

"O, yes; she said it's what she did always want."

Horace's face brightened like the moon sailing out of a cloud. Grace's cabinet held nothing but choice articles, and was kept as orderly as a paper of pins.

"See here, Barby; you needn't tell Gracie I asked you any questions."

When the children met that morning, Grace threw her arms about her brother's neck,—

"O, Horace, dear, there never was anything so nice as my little dining-table."

"Poh!" exclaimed the boy, dipping, swallow-like, this way and that, to avoid a kiss.

"Why, you dear little brother, mayn't I kiss you for thanks?" said the affectionate sister, trying to find a spot on his face which was not in motion. She succeeded at last in touching his forehead with her lips.

"There, once'll do," said Horace, impatiently; for he considered kissing an amiable weakness, and only submitted to it as a painful duty.

"O, pshaw!" said he; "such a fuss over just nothing!"

And this was all the remark he would deign to make concerning a piece of work which must have cost him many days of hard labor. Still, he was proud of his success, and for a long while afterward felt the keenest delight in seeing that table brought out for exhibition to visitors, or standing in a corner adorned with his sister's work-box.

Grace had a bright face this morning, as Mrs. Clifford noticed at once. She sent her letter to the post-office by her father, then had a frolic with Horace, who was rather "wildish," and with little Katie, who, for a wonder, did not appear to be cutting a tooth that morning, and was "as cunning as a baby can be and live."

As Grace entered the school-room, she met Mahla Linck, whose white face warmed to a glow at her friendly greeting.

"She's the girl that thinks it's of no use to try for the prize," thought Grace. "Poor thing, I'll soon make her understand that she needn't be afraid of Grace Clifford."

The school was called to order, and the teacher, a tall, fine-looking young lady, began to read the morning lesson in the New Testament. A part of the beautiful Sermon on the Mount was repeated by teacher and pupils. When they came to the words, "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them," Grace involuntarily glanced across the room to Mahla, who sat resting her head on her hand. Such a hand! You could trace its veins as easily as the blue lines in white paper. Her pale hair shone in the sun like threads of gold.

Grace's eyes were fixed on the little girl with a sort of fascination. If anything could be done to help poor Mahla, she would do it. What though by helping her she should lessen her own chance of the prize? Never mind. Hadn't Christ made the Golden Rule? Grace had fought out the battle with herself the night before. She had put her hand to the plough, and would not look back.

When recess-time came, Mahla had no heart for play, but kept her seat, still vexing herself over a question in analysis, which was buried in a fog.

Grace watched her with real pity. It was almost unaccountable, she thought, how any one who had ever studied "Colburn's Mental" could be puzzled by anything in analysis. But Grace was a natural mathematician, and Mahla was not.

When school was over at noon, the pale young German girl still sat biting her slate pencil, and pressing one colorless hand upon her throbbing temples.

"Now, what is it, Mahla?" said the sweet voice of Grace Clifford, as she came and leaned over her friend's shoulder, her face covered with smiles. "I do believe you're puzzling over the same thing that vexes everybody so to-day. Want me to show you just a speck? For you'll catch the headache, Mahla, if you think so hard."

Mahla gave a sigh of relief.

"I don't know, Gracie; things seem to spin round and round; I can't get a start."

[Illustration: Grace helping Mahla.]

"Let's look at it, Mahla. Do piece work—three men—how many days? It's that same old firm of A, B, and C. How long suppose they've been in company? I just believe they set up a shop in the ark?"

Mahla laughed a little, the first time for that day; and it did her good. "Well, now, if those old patriarchs A, B, and C—" But we will not follow Grace in her explanation. She never wearied till Mahla's eyes brightened, and she cried out, "O, how stupid! Why couldn't I see that before? You make things so clear! You do beat everything in arithmetic, Gracie!"

Then Mahla laid aside her slate and book with a smile of heartfelt satisfaction, and made ready to eat her dinner of plain bread and butter and Dutch cheese. Grace dropped an orange into her basket.

"Good by, Mahla. If you have any more trouble with those horrid questions, let me know, please. Remember, we belong to the Ruby Seal and are bound to help one another."

Mahla looked up with a face full of joy and gratitude, and tried to speak her thanks. But a swelling in her throat choked her voice.

Grace felt strangely happy as she bounded out of the school-yard; yet the exquisite joy which throbbed at her heart, and called tears to her eyes, was not so much happiness as blessedness. She had obeyed the Saviour's Golden Rule in a sweet, unselfish spirit, and had her reward.