Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. [Illustration: NEW STORIES BY A ∙ L ∙ O ∙ E] [Illustration: The Look of the Thing.] NEW STORIES The Look of the Thing and Other Stories BY A. L. O. E. NEW YORK: GENERAL PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL. UNION AND CHURCH BOOK SOCIETY. 762 BROADWAY. 1865. PUBLISHED THROUGH THE OFFERINGS OF The Sunday School OF TRINITY CHURCH, BRIDGEPORT, CONN. CONTENTS. No. 1 THE LOOK OF THE THING. No. 2 GOOD-BYE. No. 3 GOOD FOR NOTHING. No. 4 HOW LIKE IT IS! NEW STORIES BY A. L. O. E. No. 1—THE LOOK OF THE THING. NEW YORK: GENERAL PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL. UNION AND CHURCH BOOK SOCIETY. 762 BROADWAY. 1865. THE LOOK OF THE THING. REBECCA BURTON and Lydia White sat chatting over their tea. They were near neighbours, for they dwelt opposite to each other; and Rebecca, who earned her living by going out washing and charing, and had but a lonely time of it during the long winter evenings, was often invited by kind Widow White to share a meal with her and her little daughter Agnes. Not that Rebecca was one whose society gave much pleasure to her friend: she was a bustling, gossiping woman, very full of her neighbours' concerns. Where there is little thinking, there is apt to be much talking; it has been well said that only empty bottles are never corked up. Little Agnes, with her large black attentive eyes, sat perched on a high chair beside her mother, listening to every word that was spoken, and not a little amused by Rebecca's idle gossip. While slice after slice of buttered toast and tea-cake were despatched, cup after cup of good black tea poured from the shining tea-pot, the guest talked as eagerly and as fast, as if talking were "the business of life." "Well, Mrs. White," said Rebecca, helping herself for the third time from the well-filled plate, "I think that you've always had a bit of a fancy for that Mrs. Miles, but she's not a person to my mind. Would you believe it now, when the subscription went round for the poor weavers,—and even I, hard up as I often am, could manage to drop a bit of silver into the plate,—Mrs. Miles was not ashamed to put in only a penny! And she with a house and shop of her own! I'm sure, if I'd been she, I'd a deal rather have given nothing at all!" "What a mean creature Mrs. Miles must be," thought little Agnes to herself.