of the "Do Good Society" had proved so successful that
another was appointed for next week, at the request of the little
members. Mr. Morven came in and opened the meeting with a prayer this
time, after which he retired while the children were singing their first
hymn. Then the president read and explained the pledge again, and asked
all who had not done so already to sign it, after which she again
produced the box with a slit in the cover, into which she asked every
one to drop the papers on which they had written whatever they would
like to have read to the society.

There was a little tittering, a little rustling, some blushing, and
considerable hesitation, after which a good many of the girls and some
of the boys came up in a confused mass, and dropped some folded papers
into the box.

"Now," said Miss Etta, when all was quiet again, "I call upon the
secretary to read what is on these papers without the names,--for that
is the Bible way of not letting our right hand know what the left
does,--and if any of our little members, who don't know how to write,
have anything to report to the society, they may get some of the bigger
ones to write it down for them. Here are some slips of paper and pencils
I have provided on purpose."

Then there was another pause and some more rustling, whispering, and
laughing, and some more curiously written and folded papers were dropped
into the box.

These are what the secretary read:--

I.

I was coming home from school one day when I saw old Mr. Kelly trying to
push his wheelbarrow of potatoes up the hill. He looked so weak that I
thought I would help him, so I called Jim Byers, and we took hold of the
wheelbarrow and wheeled it all the way to his door, where we emptied the
potatoes into a barrel and put them away in the cellar. It was great
fun!

"No doubt, it was," said Miss Etta.

II.

Kittie always calls me names when she gets mad, and I always used to
think of the worst I knew to call her in return; but I thought I
wouldn't since I belong to the Do Good Society. So the next time she got
mad, and began to call names, I said: "Don't, Kittie, dear, let's love
each other. Here's a beautiful piece of lace to make a _fichu_ for your
doll!" She hasn't called me names since.

"Of course not; who could?" was the comment.

III.

I met four boys with cigarettes in their mouths