done something as a good old minister I have heard of, once did in
very similar circumstances. He was making a call upon one of the
ladies of his parish--upon Aunt Katy, who was noted all over the
neighborhood for being close-fisted. Almost as soon as the good man
had got into the house, she invited him to go into the buttery, and
look at her nice cheeses. He went in, the old lady acting as a guide.
"There," said she, pointing to a mammoth cheese which she had just
made for the fair, and which she was particularly proud of, "there's a
cheese for you." "Thank you, Aunt Katy," said the minister, "my wife
was saying only this morning that we should have to get a new cheese
pretty soon." And he took the cheese down from the shelf, carried it
out to his wagon, bade the astonished lady of the house a good
morning, and drove off to visit some of the rest of his flock.

Selfishness has the same face, look at it where you will. It made
quite a scar in the features of Caroline's character. Without that,
they would have been beautiful--with it, they were ugly enough.

But about that kitten. Clara Goodsell was as full of fun as a hickory
nut is of meat. She heard of Caroline's kitten, and she, too, was
invited to call and see it. She did not go, though, and, indeed, the
girls very generally failed to comply with the invitation. They knew
well enough that, if they went to see the kitten, they would not be
allowed to take it, and that all they could do would be to stand a
little way off, and look at it, and remark how beautiful it was.

One day, when the girls at school were required to write compositions,
Clara thought she would write something which would make Carrie
ashamed of her selfishness. The teacher read all the compositions
aloud. When he came to Clara's, the girls had as much as they could do