ull of books, were hurrying down the steps and coming into the street.
Two quite big boys came behind us, and Mrs. Wood turned around and spoke
to them, and asked if they were going to the Band of Mercy.
"Oh, yes, ma'am," said the younger one "I've got a recitation, don't you
remember?"
"Yes, yes; excuse me for forgetting," said Mrs. Wood, with her jolly
laugh. "And here are Dolly, and Jennie, and Martha," she went on, as
some little girls came running out of a house that we were passing.
The little girls joined us and looked so hard at my head and stump of a
tail, and my fine collar, that I felt quite shy, and walked with my head
against Miss Laura's dress.
She stooped down and patted me, and then I felt as if I didn't care how
much they stared. Miss Laura never forgot me. No matter how earnestly
she was talking, or playing a game, or doing anything, she always
stopped occasionally to give me word or look, to show that she knew I
was near.
Mrs. Wood paused in front of a building on the main street. A great many
boys and girls were going in, and we went with them. We found ourselves
in a large room, with a platform at one end of it. There were some
chairs on this platform and a small table.
A boy stood by this table with his hand on a bell. Presently he rang it,
and then every one kept still. Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that
this boy was the president of the band, and the young man with the
pale face and curly hair who sat in front of him was Mr. Maxwell, the
artist's son, who had formed this Band of Mercy.
The lad who presided had a ringing, pleasant voice. He said they would
begin their meeting by singing a hymn. There was an organ near the
platform and a young girl played on it, while all the other boys and
girls stood up, and sang very sweetly and clearly.
After they had sung the hymn, the president asked for the report of
their last meeting.
A little girl, blushing and hanging her head, came forward, and read
what was written on a paper that she held in her hand.
The president made some remarks after she had finished, and then every
one had to vote. It was just like a meeting of grown people, and I was
surprised to see how good those children were. They did not frolic nor
laugh, but all seemed sober and listened attentively.
After the voting was over, the president called upon John Turner to give
a recitation This was the boy whom we saw on the way there. He walked
up to the platform,
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