“Aunt Laura has just come over again, and she and Adeline are discussing the chapel question. They are on opposite sides, of course. ’Tis as good as a play, being in Tweenit now; and I long to stay longer. Such exciting times! The women, it seems, have earned money to build a chapel (there never was any meeting-house here); and now the men, who have all along discouraged them from doing it, they step forward, and want to form a regular parish that shall build the chapel, and run it generally; but they are not going to allow the women to come to the parish-meetings, and speak,--the meetings that are to dispose of their own money, They say it would be wicked. Isn’t this funny?”... XII. NEW INVENTION WANTED. I heard Nanny Joe remark, the other day, that begging money was akin to pulling teeth; and, for her part, she wished there was a way of putting people’s avaricious propensities under some influence akin to laughing-gas, that their money might be drawn without pain. I said to her in reply, that fairs answer the purpose very well, as I could testify from experience; having taken them often, and found in every instance the effect to be such, that I scarcely knew of any operation being performed, until I woke up, and found my money extracted. Nanny replied, that such machinery was too cumbersome, and that she meant some little, handy pocket-contrivance to be applied individually. Probably Mr. David was the individual in her mind at the time. The old man is pretty well to do for a farmer; yet his dollars come hard. Every one has roots to it; and the roots are clinched. Nanny Joe and Nanny Moses have been trying to beg money enough to buy a second-hand sewing-machine for Mrs. Hannah Knowles. Mr. Knowles, a year or two ago, was killed by falling from a roof; and his widow has been struggling ever since to support the family,--yes, struggling, and among all these Christians! It would seem no more than fair that a home bereft in such a way should be provided with even more comforts than the happier homes around; that a heart thus grief-stricken should be relieved of every possible burden,--no more than fair, and no more than Christian-like. Christianity, it is said, is better than other religions, because it teaches that we are all brothers and sisters. Now, among a family of children, the rule is, when one has any thing good, “Give dear brother or sister some.” How often have I heard this at Mrs. Melendy’s! And another thing. Yesterday, while I was calling there, little Rosa Melendy fell, and bruised her head. The other children were around her in a moment,--one with a doll, one with a cooky, one with a kiss, one with a flower; all trying to comfort the child. Maybe we are all brothers and sisters, as our religion teaches; but I know that we are not willing, all of us, when we have any thing good, to “give dear brother or sister some,” or always eager to heap kindnesses on any member of the family whose heart has been bruised by sorrow.