One sunny summer afternoon Margaret sat reading beneath the shade of an old apple tree. Before her stretched a charming view but on her face was a troubled, dissatisfied look.

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "Even this book is stupid. It is the dullest, most stupid day that I ever saw."

"Stupid day?" said a tiny voice. There on the rock before her sat the daintiest little golden-haired fairy that she had ever seen. The fairy's feet were resting on a woodbine vine that was creeping up the wall, and her wings were as delicate as those of a b.u.t.terfly.

"What makes such a bright day as this stupid?"

"Oh, I suppose it is myself," said the discontented girl.

"I believe it is," said the fairy. "Now I will take you with me to the Palace of Time and you shall choose a day that suits you better. Come."

Over green meadows, through pleasant pastures, beside babbling brooks that sparkled and played in the sunshine, the fairy led. At last they came to the Palace of Time. The fairy led the way up the long hall to the throne on which Time sat, and told her errand.

"Take the little friend to the Hall of Days," he said, "and give her the day that pleases her best."

How delighted the maiden was! Wouldn't you be if a fairy should take you out of a stupid day and promise you the day that pleased you most? She just skipped along, her feet scarcely touching the ground in her joy. In a great room filled with all kinds of bright lights, they stopped.

"This is the Hall of Days," said the fairy. "Take whichever day pleases you most."

Like great b.a.l.l.s of gla.s.s the days were of many colors and of many kinds.

Some were dark and some were light; some were dim and others clear.

One was like a crystal and the odor of roses seemed to come from it. Its colors were soft and Margaret gazed deep into it. Vague dreams seemed to come from it and memories happy and delightful. But she couldn't live on dreams and memories. That wouldn't do. She might like that sort of a day once in a while but her young life demanded something to do on the best day. This was a day that had gone.

One other day pleased her much. It shone like the sun on the new fallen snow. It was so white and so pure that she lifted it carefully lest she should soil and spot it.

"It is too bright. It hurts my eyes," said she, putting it back.

"Yes, little girl," said the fairy. "That is to-morrow. It must be shaded by many things before one can bear it."

Then, just between the two, Margaret spied the most beautiful ball of all.

It wavered and shimmered; now it was red, now green, now yellow and now pink. Oh, there were so many colors that she could not name them all. Wave upon wave of color swept through it and all seemed shot with the golden lights.

"That is the one that I want," she cried happily. "That is the most beautiful day of all."

"Take it, then," said the fairy. "It is yours."

All the way home, the maiden clasped it tightly.

"With this day," she said, "I can be joyful. With this day I can make so many people happy, and it is so bright that I can see the best way in which to go. It is as light as a feather. I can hardly wait to show my friends the beautiful day that I have chosen, for I love it dearly."

"Yes, indeed," said the fairy, as she flew off in a different direction.

"It is a wonderful day. Infinite wisdom and love helped you to choose aright. That is To-day."

"What a beautiful day!" said the maiden as she sat in the shade of the old apple tree. "I believe I have been dreaming. But this is too beautiful a day to idle it away. I will go and do something for some one to make others see its beauty also."

IN THE WAY

Gladys Mercer sat looking at a snapshot which had come to her from one of her girl friends. It showed a strong, athletic woman with a blanket rolled over her back hiking along the road and with her six girls in middies and bloomers. And as Gladys looked at the picture, she smiled at the memories which it brought.

There was the long hike, the tired muscles, the view from the mountaintop, the wonderful sunset, the stillness of the night and the fear of the dark.

Then there was the voice of the woman in the picture,

"Girls, you are safer here than in any house you could find. Just remember that G.o.d is over all and sleep as sound as can be."

Then there was the sunrise, the pancake breakfast on the hill, and the hike home. Best of all there had been two long days with Mrs. Fuller, the friend of girls. What a good visit they had had with her! What a fine story she had told them at the sunset! What a helpful prayer she had made as they closed their good-night song when the sun went down!

And then from the thought of the trip, Gladys went to the thought of all that Mrs. Fuller had meant to her. She was sunny; she was happy in her work through the day, and happy to give her time to them at night; she was always ready to advise and help; she seemed to know just what to do when they did not know; somehow she could always get them to do the thing they had thought they would not do. She was to Gladys, the motherless girl, a friend, a companion, a leader and a heroine.

What was there about her that made her able to lead? Was it her smile? Was it her ability to do things? What made a leader anyway?

Gladys leaned far back against the old tree under which she had been sitting and said to herself, "I wish--I wish----"

"And what do you wish," said a little voice, and there close to her was a dear little lady dressed in red and in her hand she carried a lamp.

"Who are you?" said Gladys.

"I am the Fairy of Helpful Service," said the little lady. "I heard you talking about one of my helpers, so I was interested to know what you wished when you thought of all she had done for you girls. Now tell me.

What do you wish?"

"If you are a fairy, perhaps you can give me my wish. I wish to be like Mrs. Fuller. I want to help girls. I want to get the kind of letters she gets from girls who are far away. I want to see 'my girls' some day giving service all over the world as she does. I want to be like her. Please, fairy, give me my wish."

"I can't make you like her but I can put you in the way of service and then, if you choose, you can become like her and get the things you are asking for. Those things are not given--they are earned, and the cost of them is heavy. I don't really think you mean what you say, for you haven't even wanted to go to school to learn to help. Perhaps the best way would be to let you see _her_ in the way and then you can choose for yourself whether you want your gift. Come and we will watch her climb the way."

So the Fairy of Helpful Service and the girl who wanted to be a leader went together into the House of the Past.

"There," said the fairy, "there is Mrs. Fuller as a little girl. We will watch her grow and you may see where she earned some of the qualities which you admire in her."

There she was, a mischievous little girl of ten, as happy as the day was long.

"Here she is laying the foundation for health," said the fairy, "with long hours of sleep and good food and plenty of play. One begins away back in girlhood to be a leader. Some who would have been good helpers for me cannot serve because they did not begin early enough to get ready."

Then as the little girl played there came into the way a black, black cloud. Gladys shuddered as it came nearer and nearer to the little girl and finally enveloped her. It was death--the death of her father, but after the cloud had pa.s.sed and the sunshine had come again, the fairy said,

"See, her shoulders are broader. She has learned what loneliness means."

On she went and then she was going to High School. Others had clothes that she did not have. She must hurry to finish because there was no father in the home. So, eagerly she pushed through the High School.

Just here Gladys saw a hand reached out to help and heard a voice saying to the girl, "Of course it will be hard but you can go to college if you really want to go. It will do you good to sacrifice for it." 'Twas the Master of the school who was helping her to keep in the way.

"Can you see her grow?" said the fairy. "She has added concentration, an appreciation of the girl who has little and who must be with girls who have much, and now she has been given a vision."

Then Gladys watched her toil through college, earning her way, often overtired and worried as to where the means to go on were to come from.