n't want the money."

"It is kinder to take it," said the mother.

Harry submitted. Ere long, he was able to move on crutches. He and
his mother were again in their little cottage. Harry received the
heartiest welcome from his towns-people when he was seen again with
his one leg in his place in the post-office.

George often went to the town. His first visit was always to Mrs.
Brown. He treated her as if she were his mother, and her son was to
him as a brother. He was often heard to say, "The sound of Harry
Brown's crutches always reminds me sorrowfully that when there is a
duty to perform involving the rights of others we should never say,
It is only a trifle."

"It seems to me," said Frank, "that I should never have been happy
again to have caused so much misery by the neglect of my duty; and
yet, Mother, it did seem a trifle."

"My mother," replied Mrs. Chilton, "said to me, when I was a girl,
Never consider any duty, ever so great, as too difficult, or any,
ever so small, as too trifling. I have never forgotten her words,
and though I have not always been faithful to this lesson, it has
often saved me from wrong-doing and its consequent unhappiness."

After a short silence, Mrs. Chilton said to her boys, The next story
is not so painful, but it illustrates the same truth--that, in
matters of conscience, nothing is trifling. You shall now hear how
happy a good conscience can make one even under the severest trials.

One pleasant afternoon, my friend and I were seated in the neat
little room which served old Susan Vincent for parlor, kitchen, and
bed-room. She was sitting in a nice arm-chair which her infirmities
made necessary for her comfort. A kind friend had sent it to her.
She had on a nice clean gingham gown, a handkerchief crossed on her
neck, in the fashion of the Shakers, and a plain cap, as white as
the driven snow, covered her silver locks. A little round table,
polished by frequent scouring, stood beside her; on it was her
knitting work, Baxter's Saints' Rest, and the Bible; the last lay
open before her. She was reading in it when we entered. As her door
was open and she did not hear very quickly, we had an opportunity of
observing her before she perceived us. There was that deep interest
in her manner of reading this holy book, as she was leaning over it
with her spectacles on, entirely absorbed, that made her resemble a
person who was examining a title deed to an estate which was to make
her the