A dimple or two came into sight, and she had very nice
teeth--small and white, like the traditional row of pearls.

"Oh, just look," she said. "Here are three dollars--and I'm
going to give it all to the library fund. I had a letter to-day
from Uncle Arthur in Winnipeg, and he sent me three dollars. He
said I was to use it ANY way I liked, so ma couldn't refuse to
let me give it to the fund. She thinks it's an awful waste, but
she always goes by what Uncle Arthur says. Oh, I've prayed so
hard that some money might come some way, and now it has. See
what praying does!"

I was very much afraid that we did not rejoice quite as
unselfishly in Sara's good fortune as we should have done. WE
had earned our contributions by the sweat of our brow, or by the
scarcely less disagreeable method of "begging." And Sara's had as
good as descended upon her out of the skies, as much like a
miracle as anything you could imagine.

"She prayed for it, you know," said Felix, after Sara had gone
home.

"That's too easy a way of earning money," grumbled Peter
resentfully. "If the rest of us had just set down and done
nothing, only prayed, how much do you s'pose we'd have? It don't
seem fair to me."

"Oh, well, it's different with Sara," said Dan. "We COULD earn
money and she COULDN'T. You see? But come on down to the
orchard. The Story Girl had a letter from her father to-day and