Put together all the soft, polite things that your fashionable friends have ever said of you, and as the zephyr to the tornado, so would they all be compared to the gratitude, the admiration, the "God bless her," the "dear swate angel," the very worship which that household would pour out upon you during the few days before the next visit; and when you do go again, the shanty has been thoroughly cleaned and white-washed, the children's feet have been soaked and scrubbed, so that the actual skin has been brought into view; and everything has become wonderfully smart. Tell them of the heart pleasure which all this change gives you, and then speak warmly of the great advantage of such cleanliness, of ventilation, and of such other matters as you see they are ignorant of. And now you mustn't blame them for casting surreptitious glances at your covered basket; they can't help it, poor things. They try not to look that way, but their imaginations are very busy with the contents of that basket. At length you open it, and taking out a bowl, you say:-- "Mrs. O'Flaherty, I am really troubled about Katie's being so thin. Here is some Scotch oat-meal, and if you will try her with some oat- meal porridge, I am sure it will do her good. If you think, after a little, that it's doing her good, I will bring you more of it. But oh, how the youngsters long to see what else there is in that basket. After a moment, you put your hand in, and begin to take out things. "Now, Mrs. O'Flaherty, you won't blame me, will you? I just brought down a few little things; they are of no great value, but I thought you might as well use them, as to have them lie idle. Here are a few pairs of woolen stockings which I have mended all nicely for you. And here is a lot of collars and handkerchiefs which, perhaps, you may make some use of; if so, I am sure you are welcome to them." "And now, Katie, I have brought a picture for you. I saw it in a shop window yesterday, and thought you might like it. There, do you know what that is?" "Why, yes mum; that's a picture of the Blessed Virgin! Be's you a Catholic, mum?" "No, Katie, I am not a Catholic; but I can't see any harm in a picture of the dear Mother of Christ." "Oh, I thank you mum, I thank you with all my heart." "And now, Katie, can't you get a frame for this?" "Oh yes, mum, I can get a frame; I will get a frame in some way." When you go again, a week later, what a flutter in the neighborhood! Eyes, eyes everywhere. All the neighboring shanties are alive to see that "blessed, swate angel." As you approach the O'Flaherty's, they are all out, looking wondrously smart, and the old man, for the first time, is without his pipe. Your remark about tobacco seems to be working. Katie is the first to reach you, and she holds up in her hands the picture, in a nice little gilt frame.