"BETTER THAN RICHES."

I.

"Cash! Cash! here!" cried an attendant at the stationery counter of
one of New York's great shopping emporiums. At the summons a
delicate-looking little girl came wearily up, and held out a small
wicker basket for the goods and the money. "Be quick now: the lady's
in a hurry."

Notwithstanding the injunction, the child started off with no special
attempt at haste. The same words were dinned into her ears a hundred
times a day. She did not see why ladies should be in a hurry. The
ladies of her world seemed to have nothing to do but to wear pretty
clothes, and to shop, which meant principally the buying of more pretty
clothes. It was all very well to make an extra effort to oblige one
occasionally; but if she did it every time she was exhorted to, surely
her tired feet would give out before the end of the day.

"Cash is so poky!" complained the salesgirl to her companion behind the
counter.

"Hie you, Cash! Hustle I say!" called the floor-walker peremptorily,
as he passed.

Thus warned, the child skurried away, and reappeared after a very brief
interval. As she rushed up with the parcel, an awkward accident
occurred. The lady heedlessly stepped backward. Cash dodged; but,
alas! before she could stop herself, she had dashed into a pyramid of
note-paper that stood upon the end of the counter, and sent the boxes