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“Here the good soul stopped to wipe away the tears that were shining on her fat cheeks, and Mary appeared with a dollar, ‘for master said it was a tough job and well done.’

“‘May his bed be aisy above, darlin’, and many thanks, and the compliments of the sayson to ye, ladies.’

“With which grateful farewell I trudged away, well pleased at the success of my first attempt. Refreshed and cheered by the kindness of my humble hostess, I took heart, and worked away at my next job with redoubled energy, and by the time the first bells rang for church, I had three dollars in my pocket. My blood danced in my veins, and all my despair seemed shovelled away with the snow I had cleared from other people’s paths.

“My back ached, and my palms were sore, but heart and soul were in tune again, and hurrying home, I dressed and went to church, feeling that a special thanksgiving was due for the lesson I had learned.

“Christmas garlands hung upon the walls, Christmas music rolled through the church, and Christmas sermon, prayer, and psalm cheered the hearts of all. But the shabby young man in the back seat found such beauty and comfort in the service of that day that he never forgot it, for it was the turning-point of his life.”

My friend fell silent for a minute, and I sat, contrasting that past of his, with the happy present, for he was a prosperous man now, with an honored name, a comfortable fortune, and best of all, a noble wife, and some brave lads to follow in his footsteps.

Presently I could not resist asking,–

“Did you go on shovelling, Dick?”

“Not long, for there was no need of it, thanks to Pat’s mother,” he answered smiling.

“Come, I must have all the story, for I know it has a sequel!”

“A very happy one. Yes, I owe to that kind soul and her little story, the turn that Fortune gave her wheel. Nay, rather say, the touch of nature that makes the whole world kin. For when I went home that day, I sat down and made a simple tale from the hint she gave, and something of her own humor and pathos must have got into it, for it was accepted, and more stories solicited, to my great surprise.

“I wrote it to please myself, for I was in a happy mood; and though my room was cold, the sun shone; though my closet was bare, honest money was in my pocket, and I felt as rich as a king.

“I remember I laughed at myself as I posted the manuscript on Monday morning, called it infatuation, and thought no more of it for days, being busy with my new friend, the shovel.

“Snow was gone, but coal remained, and I put in tons of it with a will, for this active labor was the tonic my overwrought nerves needed, and my spirits rose wonderfully, as muscles earned the daily bread that brains had failed to win.

“Ah! but they brought me something better than bread, dearer than fame; and to that old shovel I owe the happiness of my life! The very day I got the letter accepting the little story, I was gaily putting in my last ton of coal, for I felt that now I might take up the pen again, since in a kitchen I had discovered the magic that wins listeners.

“Bless my heart! how I worked and how I whistled, I was so happy, and felt so lifted above all doubt and fear by the knowledge that my talent was not a failure, and the fact that my own strong arms could keep the wolf from the door!

“I was so busy that I had not observed a lady watching me from the window. She had opened it to feed the hungry sparrows, and my whistle caught her ear, for it was an air she knew, and had heard a certain young man sing before he dropped out of her circle, and left her wondering sadly what had befallen him.