DID the Pansies read in the papers about Lena Haupt?

She was only five years old when her mother died, and three months afterwards her father, who had kept her with him by the kind help of a neighbor, fell from a building where he had been working, and was so badly injured that in a short time he died. He had his little girl with him a few hours before his death, and explained to her as well as he could that he was going where her mamma had gone, but could not take her with him yet. She must be a good little girl; she had an uncle and aunt and little cousins in Chicago, and they would take care of her and love her if she was good.

Only a few days after that Lena started alone on her long journey. Her uncle had telegraphed to “send her on,” and he would meet her at the Chicago depot. There was a card tied around her neck by a ribbon, and on the card was written: “Please take care of me.” There was a letter, also, fastened to the same ribbon, which told Lena’s sad little story, and asked the passengers to be kind to her, but to please not give her any candy. She had a wee purse fastened to the buckle of her belt which had nearly two dollars in it.

As for her ticket, it had been bought and paid for, and the conductor had it in charge. Before night of that long day almost every passenger on the crowded train had called on Lena, and her wee purse was filled to its utmost capacity with shining quarters and half-dollars. She herself made a great many journeys in the porter’s arms to the parlor car, to visit with some ladies. And at last, as night was coming on, and Lena’s eyes were beginning to droop, and the conductor was considering how he could make her comfortable for the night, came a lady and gentleman and begged to have her transferred to their sleeper, where they bought a berth for her and put her to bed.

And all along the line little Lena found loving friends. I think her father and mother in Heaven must have been glad to see how warm were the hearts of even strangers toward their darling.