n
the way, and, just as the clock struck eight, she arrived at the door.
One hour has elapsed since she left. But why does she linger on the
threshold? Why but because the sounds of weeping and mourning have
reached her ears, and she fears that all is over with her poor friend,
Her fears are indeed true, for the pure spirit of the young sufferer has
taken its flight to that blest land where hunger and thirst are known
no more. Poor Annie! thy last earthly wish, a simple glass of ice-cream,
was denied thee--and why? We need not pause to answer: ye who have an
abundance of this world's goods, think, when ye are about to turn
from your doors the poor seamstress or washerwoman, or even those less
destitute than they, without a just recompense for their labour,
whether the sufferings and privations of some poor creatures will not be
increased thereby.

RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL.

OBADIAH LAWSON and Watt Dood were neighbours; that is, they lived within
a half mile of each other, and no person lived between their respective
farms, which would have joined, had not a little strip of prairie land
extended itself sufficiently to keep them separated. Dood was the oldest
settler, and from his youth up had entertained a singular hatred against
Quakers; therefore, when he was informed that Lawson, a regular disciple
of that class of people had purchased the next farm to his, he declared
he would make him glad to move away again. Accordingly, a system of
petty annoyances was commenced by him, and every time one of Lawson's
hogs chanced to stray upon Dood's place, he was beset by men and dogs,
and most savagely abused. Things progressed thus for nearly a year, and
the Quaker, a man of decidedly peace principles, appeared in no way to
resent the injuries received at the hands of his spiteful neighbour. But
matters were drawing to a crisis; for Dood, more enraged than ever at
the quiet of Obadiah, made oath that he would do something before long
to wake up the spunk of Lawson. Chance favoured his design. The Quaker
had a high-blooded filly, which he had been very careful in raising, and
which was just four years old. Lawson took great pride in this animal,
and had refused a large sum of money for her.

One evening, a little after sunset, as Watt Dood was passing around
his cornfield, he discovered the filly feeding in the little strip of
prairie land that separated the two farms, and he conceived the hellish
design of throwing