"How many buds! And how fast they are opening!" exclaimed Effie; "I shall have one to take to school every day for-oh, a long time!"

And the buds did open even faster than Effie had expected; and in two or three days there were several of the full, waxy, white blossoms open at a time; and she soliloquized

"I'm afraid they won't keep fresh long enough so that I can wear all of them if I only take one a day; I believe I'll take two, and give one of them to somebody else. Let me see; who will it be?"

Then Effie thought of the different girls: "There is Lura Barton-I like her; and Nina Hammond-she likes flowers; they have lots of, different kinds at their house; may be she'll bring me some, too, if-" but Effie wouldn't confess, even to herself, that that was her object in taking flowers to Nina Hammond; so she continued, "if she knows I appreciate them."

Effie started to school that morning with the cherished blossoms in a paper cone, to protect them from the cold weather, which made flowers all the choicer. She thought, as she neared the building:-

"I shall not give Nora Dell any, after the way she acted yesterday. I don't like her, anyway; she is just as selfish as she can be. She brings things to school from her father's store nearly every day, and doesn't near all the time divide with the rest of the girls. "Perhaps it barely occurred to Effie's mind that Nora might not be much more selfish in enjoying her treasures alone, than she herself was in dividing with Nina Hammond. At least, she frowned dissatisfiedly, and flirted her school bag impatiently against the railing as she passed up the stairs.

During chapel exercises that morning, Effie scarcely heard a word that was said. She was busy with her own thoughts; and something would keep ringing in her ears, and she could not silence it, "When thou makest a dinner or a supper."

Do you know the rest of that verse? Just find Luke 14:13, and read it. Effie knew the whole of it, and it annoyed her. She didn't study much that morning. Those two flowers were small things to take so much attention, but they had suggested a great problem. At length she said to herself,-

"Tuberoses have nothing to do with giving feasts, but I suppose it's all the same about the recompense. "In going to her first recitation, Effie must pass Nora Dell's desk; and as she did so, she left with her one of the flowers, a trophy of peace, but carried away a conquered spirit as a trophy of the battle through which she had passed. And then, when she found herself beside Nina Hammond in the class, she gave her the other flower just because she felt good, all forgetful of the window full at Nina's house, that she had thought might recompense her.

At intermission, Nina exclaimed,-

"Oh, Effie Watson! You are just too good for anything. Do you know, every one of our plants froze last night!"

Nora, in turn, came slyly up behind her, gave her a little hug, and dropped a cluster of Malaga grapes into her hand. Then school was called, and Effie had to study hard the, remainder of the day, to atone for the morning's idleness.

When she reached home that afternoon, her mother had just returned from a visit to a sick

girl, with Effie's father (for he was a physician); and she told her about the child's having

a tiny geranium blossom in a little bottle with a few leaves, and how much she seemed to think of it.

"I wonder if she wouldn't like one of my tuberoses?" said Effie.

"I think she would be delighted with it," replied Mrs. Watson.

Accordingly, the next morning, when Effie started to school, she went by the way of the little invalid's home, and carried her a tuberose, together with the grapes she had brought from school the day before.

Perhaps, if she had known how it would sweeten the tedious, painful hours of that day, she would have left both the flowers she brought; but the place looked rough, and the people unpolished, and Effie didn't know much about sickness, so she was satisfied to leave the one, as intended, and carry the other to school.

When at school, she had about made up her mind to give the remaining flower to her special friend, Lura Barton, when the latter leaned toward her and whispered,-

"I do wish you would take that thing away. It smells so it makes my head ache."

Imagine her chagrin!  She pushed the innocent offender to the farther end of her desk, and then wondered what she should do with it. That blossom started home again that afternoon, but instead of reaching there, it found its way into the hands of a laborer whom Effie knew, and whom she met on the way; and so it went on a subtle mission of good will and kindness to his unpretentious home.

That evening, when Dr. Watson told his daughter how much good her present had done his little patient, and told her quite a story about the tiny sufferer, she felt sorry that she had not been more generous; and after that, every, day, she prepared a pretty bouquet for the sick child, until the last one was laid on her coffin lid.

One evening, a large, awkward boy came to the Watsons' home for medicine for his sick mother.

While the doctor was preparing it, Effie remarked to Mrs. Watson,-

"I have a good mind to send her one of my tuberoses. "Her mother agreeing, Effie plucked the most perfect one for the sick woman, and sent it along with her father's remedy.

When the boy came for medicine the next evening, he brought his mother's thanks for the gift, and said the woman who was staying with her thought it was the nicest flower she had ever seen.

When the last flower on the stock had been picked to put in a glass on her mother's work table, Effie exclaimed,-

"How this tuberose has blossomed!"

And her mother answered, meaningly,-

"Yes; and the best of it is, it has borne fruit,"