‘as a golden day in October and quite warm for the 
on. Gay sunflowers and phlox of varied hues which 
d been sheltered from the early frosts seemed, as they 
led in the light breeze, to be trying to enter the porch 
1¢e little old, red, gambrel-roofed house where sat Mrs. 
and her pretty daughter, Julie. The mother read 
1 while Julie embroidered with deft fingers. 
To Pa Dent, when he came home at night from his 
in the city, and turned’ the corner of the country 
d where he could see Red House, its lawn still green, 
old well, the bright flowers and Ma Dent and Julie 
ing on the porch, the cares and worries which had 
vadowed hith seemed to suddenly whisk away, and he 
ened his steps. 
_ By practising strict economy he had been enabled to 
ke payments on the place for years and in December he 
anned to celebrate entire ownership. Julie caught 
of him and gaily waved her hand, while Mrs. Dent 
aside her book. After greeting him they busied them- 
ves getting ready the evening meal and when that was 
clea 2) ai they all came again to the porch and sat for 
a time quietly enjoying the lovely moonlight night. Pa 
- broke the silence by announcing cheerfully that his 
vacation would begin tomorrow. 
+ _ “Oh, pa!” chorused Ma and Julie. 
Fy 
t% 
} “Yes, a month,” he said with no sign of pleasure, and 
the women exchanged glances of surprise. Pa had never 
- taken a vacation since he brought Red House except for 
_ illness and it seemed unlike him to rest before the last pay- 
ment in December, as he received no pay during vacation. 
~~ “The firm requested it,’ he continued quickly 
_ “Work is slack and the men are each in turn to keep out 
for a while. They can spare me first, it seems,” he said, 
- with an effort to treat the subject lightly. 
— —-—«- *You certainly need a vacation,” Mrs. Dent declared 
_ with much spirit; “you are not looking well; but,” she 
asked anxiously, “can you pay those bills you agreed to 
and make the payments as you had planned?” 
~ *T can do it if I can raise $50 more,” he said. 
“Well, don’t worry,” she replied. 
__-—S-“As you are obliged to take the vacation, make the 
best of it and enjoy it.” 
Julie was one of those wonderful girls who can keep 
a secret, and not even Mrs. Dent knew of the little hoard 
she had earned and saved, with the thought always before 
her of her sweetheart, Charlie Burton, and the little home 
_ where they would be so happy when they had saved 
enough money to buy the furnishings. 
- She had done fine sewing, had embroidered and 
_ made many fancy articles which she had sold in the city, 
and had been well paid for all. 
age When, the next day, she took the money from its 
ei hiding place under the carpet in her room, she carefully 
counted it. “Seventy-five dollars,’ she whispered, and 
bravely choked back a sob. It represented so many, many 
_ tiny stitches, and the air-castle she had built had seemed 
to fall’ with a crash. 
“Well, Miss Stingy,” she cried indignantly, as she 
caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, “wouldn't 
_ anyone judge from your expression that Pa was forcing 
you to make him a present, when you know he would not 
accept it from you if you offered it!” 
, Then she sat down and cheerfully wrote in a well- 
3 disguised hand: 
oa 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE | 5 
Red House Luck 
By MRS. LIZZIE M. PEABODY, Forest Street, Manchester 
' (Reprinted from Boston Post) 
“To Mr. John R. Dent, from one to whom he has 
shown many favors. Good luck enables me to make this 
slight return. 
“A GRATEFUL FRIEND.” 
She mailed the note and money’ the next day and 
felt well repaid for her sacrifice as she watched surprise, 
pleasure and relief picture themselves on her father’s 
face as he read the note and counted the money. 
Many times he scanned the note carefully, but did 
not recognize the hand-writing. He had helped many, as 
chance offered, but no one he could think of would be 
able to help him at this opportune time. 
It was pleasant to know that the little he could do 
had been appreciated, and he hoped the unknown donor 
would always prosper. 
After a while, he wondered wistfully if they couldn’t 
go to see his brother at the old home. He had not visited 
there for 20 years. 
Julie, thinking at once of the cost of new clothes she 
would need, begged to stay at home, and invite her aunt 
for a visit, and they consented. When they returned, they 
voted it the most enjoyable vacation they had ever spent. 
Mr. Dent was truly grateful for his good luck; and 
as he regarded each friend and acquaintance as his pos- 
sible unknown benefactor, he radiated friendliness and 
geniality, and was so cheerful, so ready with kindly help 
for everyone that he made many new friends as he 
journeyed to and from work. ; 
One of these offered him a position in his office 
which paid a better salary than Pa Dent had ever received, 
and he thankfully accepted. 
When making known his good luck to Ma and Julie, 
he said thoughtfully, “We have been wonderfully for- 
tunate since we came here to live. It is Red House Luck.” 
Julie smilingly nodded assent, and straightway began 
to rebuild her air-castle; but Ma Dent, who had been 
doing a little detective work, secretly thought that a loving 
daughter could be more safely depended upon as a con- 
tributor to prosperity than even “Red House Luck.” 
People are glad of your presence in proportion as 
you help them to feel that life is a good thing. 
There is a great deal more to be got out of things 
than is generally got out of them, whether the thing be a 
chapter in the Bible or a yellow turnip—George Mac- 
donald. 
l'raveling is no fool’s errand to him who carries his 
eyes and itinerary along with him— Olcott. 
Dr. Osler says hope is one of the best medicines peo- 
ple can have. A good thing about such medicine is that 
one can hardly take an overdose of it. 
Put not your trust in money, but put your money in 
trust—Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
Horace Greely used to say, “This is a free country, 
and no one is obliged to exercise common sense unless he 
has 1t.” 
Any coward can fight a battle when he’s sure of win- 
ning; but give me the man who has pluck to fight when 
he’s sure of losing.—George Eliot. 
