Miss Ellen was making a new pincushion, and a very pretty one itpromised to be, for she had much taste, and spent half her timeembroidering chair-covers, crocheting tidies, and all sorts of daintytrifles. Her room was full of them; and she often declared that she didwish some one would invent a new sort of fancy-work, since she had triedall the old kinds till she was tired of them. Painting china, carvingwood, button-holing butterflies and daisies onto Turkish towelling, andmaking peacock-feather trimming, amused her for a time; but as she wasnot very successful she soon gave up trying these branches, and wonderedif she would not take a little plain sewing for a change.
The old cushion stood on her table beside the new one; which was readyfor its trimming of lace and ribbon. A row of delicate new pins also laywaiting to adorn the red satin mound, and in the old blue one stillremained several pins that had evidently seen hard service.
Miss Ellen was putting a dozen needles into her book, having just pickedthem out of the old cushion, and, as she quilted them through theflannel leaves, she said half aloud,--
"It is very evident where the needles go, but I really do wish I knewwhat becomes of the pins."
"I can tell you," answered a small, sharp voice, as a long brass pintried to straighten itself up in the middle of a faded blue cornflower,evidently prepared to address the meeting.
Miss Ellen stared much surprised, for she had used this big pin a gooddeal lately, but never heard it speak before. As she looked at it shesaw for the first time that its head had a tiny face, with silvery hair,two merry eyes, and a wee mouth out of which came the metallic littlevoice that pierced her ear, small as it was.
"Dear me!" she said; then added politely, "if you can tell I should bevery happy to hear, for it has long been a great mystery, and no onecould explain it."
The old pin tried to sit erect, and the merry eye twinkled as it went onlike a garrulous creature, glad to talk after long silence:--
"Men make many wonderful discoveries, my dear, but they have never foundthat out, and never will, because we belong to women, and only afeminine ear can hear us, a feminine mind understand our mission, orsympathize with our trials, experiences, and triumphs. For we have allthese as well as human beings, and there really is not much differencebetween us when we come to look into the matter."
This was such a curious statement that Miss Ellen forgot her work tolisten intently, and all the needles fixed their eyes on the audaciouspin. Not a whit abashed it thus continued:--
"I am called 'Granny' among my friends, because I have had a long andeventful life. I am hearty and well, however, in spite of this crick inmy back, and hope to serve you a good while yet, for you seem toappreciate me, stout and ordinary as I look.
"Yes, my dear, pins and people are alike, and that rustydarning-needle need not stare so rudely, for I shall prove what I say.We are divided into classes by birth and constitution, and each can domuch in its own sphere. I am a shawl pin, and it would be foolish in meto aspire to the duties of those dainty lace pins made to fasten acollar. I am contented with my lot, however, and, being of a strong makeand enterprising spirit, have had many adventures, some perils, andgreat satisfactions since I left the factory long ago. I well rememberhow eagerly I looked about me when the paper in which I lived, with somehundreds of relations, was hung up in a shop window, to display ourglittering ranks and tempt people to buy. At last a purchaser came, adashing young lady who bought us with several other fancy articles, andcarried us away in a smart little bag, humming and talking to herself,in what I thought a very curious way.
"When we were taken out I was all in a flutter to see where I was andwhat would happen next. There were so many of us, I could hardly hope togo first, for I was in the third row, and most people take us in order.But Cora was a hasty, careless soul, and pulled us out at random, so Isoon found myself stuck up in a big untidy cushion, with every sort ofpin you can imagine. Such a gay and giddy set I never saw, and really,my dear, their ways and conversation were quite startling to an ignorantyoung thing like me. Pearl, coral, diamond, jet, gold, and silver heads,were all around me as well as vulgar brass knobs, jaunty black pins,good for nothing as they snap at the least strain, and my own relations,looking eminently neat and respectable among this theatrical rabble. ForI will not disguise from you, Miss Ellen, that my first mistress was anactress, and my life a very gay one at the beginning. Merry, kind, andcareless was the pretty Cora, and I am bound to confess I enjoyed myselfimmensely, for I was taken by chance with half a dozen friends to pin upthe folds of her velvet train and mantle, in a fairy spectacle where sheplayed the queen. It was very splendid, and, snugly settled among thesoft folds, I saw it all, and probably felt that I too had my part;humble as it was, it was faithfully performed, and I never once desertedmy post for six weeks.
"Among the elves who went flitting about with silvery wings and spangledrobes was one dear child who was the good genius of the queen, and wasalways fluttering near her, so I could not help seeing and loving thedear creature. She danced and sung, came out of flowers, swung down fromtrees, popped up from the lower regions, and finally, when all thequeen's troubles are over, flew away on a golden cloud, smiling througha blaze of red light, and dropping roses as she vanished.
"When the play ended, I used to see her in an old dress, a thin shawl,and shabby hat, go limping home with a tired-looking woman who dressedthe girls.
"I thought a good deal about 'Little Viola,' as they called her,--thoughher real name was Sally, I believe,--and one dreadful night I played aheroic part, and thrill now when I remember it."
"Go on, please, I long to know," said Miss Ellen, dropping theneedle-book into her lap, and leaning forward to listen better.
"One evening the theatre took fire," continued the old pin impressively."I don't know how, but all of a sudden there was a great uproar, smoke,flames, water pouring, people running frantically about, and such a wildpanic I lost my small wits for a time. When I recovered them, I foundCora was leaning from a high window, with something wrapped closely inthe velvet mantle that I pinned upon the left shoulder just under apaste buckle that only sparkled while I did all the work.
"A little golden head lay close by me, and a white face looked up fromthe crimson folds, but the sweet eyes were shut, the lips were drawnwith pain, a horrible odor of burnt clothes came up to me, and the smallhand that clutched Cora's neck was all blistered with the cruel firewhich would have devoured the child if my brave mistress had not rescuedher at the risk of her own life. She could have escaped at first, butshe heard Sally cry to her through the blinding smoke, and went to findand rescue her. I dimly recalled that, and pressed closer to the whiteshoulder, full of pride and affection for the kind soul whom I had oftenthought too gay and giddy to care for anything but pleasure.
"Now she was calling to the people in the street to put up a ladder,and, as she leaned and called, I could see the crowds far down, thesmoke and flame bursting out below, and hear the hiss of water as itfell upon the blazing walls. It was a most exciting moment, as we hungthere, watching the gallant men fix the long ladder, and one comeclimbing up till we could see his brave face, and hear him shoutcheerily,--
"'Swing from the window-sill, I'll catch you.'
"But Cora answered, as she showed the little yellow head that shone inthe red glare,--
"'No, save the child first!'
"'Drop her then, and be quick: it's hot work here,' and the man held uphis arms with a laugh, as the flames licked out below as if to eat awaythe frail support he stood on.
"All in one breathless moment, Cora had torn off the mantle, wrapped thechild in it, bound her girdle about it, and finding the gaudy band wouldnot tie, caught out the first pin that came to hand, and fastened it.I was that pin; and I felt that the child's life almost depended uponme, for as the precious bundle dropped into the man's hands he caught itby the cloak, and, putting it on his shoulder, went swiftly down. Thebelt strained, the velvet tore, I felt myself bending with the weight,and expected every minute to see the child slip, and fall on the stonesbelow. But I held fast, I drove my point deeply in, I twisted myselfround so that even the bend should be a help, and I called to the man,'Hold tight, I'm trying my best, but what can one pin do!'
"Of course he did not hear me, but I really believe my desperate effortswere of some use; for, we got safely down, and were hurried away to thehospital where other poor souls had already gone.
"The good nurse who undid that scorched, drenched, and pitiful bundle,stuck me in her shawl, and resting there, I saw the poor child laid in alittle bed, her burns skilfully cared for, and her scattered sensesrestored by tender words and motherly kisses. How glad I was to hearthat she would live, and still more rejoiced to learn next day that Corawas near by, badly burned but not in danger, and anxious to see thechild she had saved.
"Nurse Benson took the little thing in her arms to visit my poormistress, and I went too. But alas! I never should have known the gayand blooming girl of the day before. Her face and hands were terriblyburnt, and she would never again be able to play the lovely queen on anystage, for her fresh beauty was forever lost.
"Hard days for all of us; I took my share of trouble with the rest,though I only suffered from the strain to my back. Nurse Bensonstraightened me out and kept me in use, so I saw much of pain andpatience in that great house, because the little gray shawl which Ifastened covered a tender heart, and on that motherly bosom many achingheads found rest, many weary creatures breathed their last, and morethan one unhappy soul learned to submit.
"Among these last was poor Cora, for it was very hard to give up beauty,health, and the life she loved, so soon. Yet I do not think she everregretted the sacrifice when she saw the grateful child well and safe,for little Sally was her best comforter, and through the long weeks shelay there half blind and suffering, the daily visit of the little onecheered her more than anything else. The poor mother was lost in thegreat fire, and Cora adopted the orphan as her own, and surely she had aright to what she had so dearly bought.
"They went away together at last, one quite well and strong again, theother a sad wreck, but a better woman for the trial, I think, and shecarried comfort with her. Poor little Sally led her, a faithful guide, atender nurse, a devoted daughter to her all her life."
Here the pin paused, out of breath, and Miss Ellen shook a bright dropoff the lace that lay in her lap, as she said in a tone of realinterest,--
"What happened next? How long did you stay in the hospital?"
"I stayed a year, for Nurse used me one day to pin up a print at thefoot of a poor man's bed, and he took such comfort in it they let ithang till he died. A lovely picture of a person who held out his arms toall the suffering and oppressed, and they gathered about him to becomforted and saved. The forlorn soul had led a wicked life, and now laydying a long and painful death, but something in that divine face taughthim to hope for pardon, and when no eye but mine saw him in the lonelynights he wept, and prayed, and struggled to repent. I think he wasforgiven, for when at last he lay dead a smile was on his lips thatnever had been there before. Then the print was taken down, and I wasused to pin up a bundle of red flannel by one of the women, and formonths I lay in a dark chest, meditating on the lessons I had alreadylearned.
"Suddenly I was taken out, and when a queer round pin-ball of theflannel had been made by a nice old lady, I was stuck in it with a partyof fat needles, and a few of my own race, all with stout bodies and bigheads.
"'The dear boy is clumsy with his fingers, and needs strong things touse,' said the old lady, as she held the tomato cushion in both handsand kissed it before she put it into a soldier's 'comfort bag.'
"'Now I shall have a lively time!' I thought, and looked gaily about me,for I liked adventures, and felt that I was sure of them now.
"I cannot begin to tell you all I went through with that boy, for he wasbrave as a lion and got many hard knocks. We marched, and camped, andfought, and suffered, but we never ran away, and when at last a Minieball came smashing through the red cushion (which Dick often carried inhis pocket as a sort of charm to keep him safe, for men seldom usepins), I nearly lost my head, for the stuffing flew out, and we were allknocked about in a dreadful way. The cushion and the old wallet togethersaved Dick's life, however, for the ball did not reach his brave heart,and the last I saw of him as I fell out of the hasty hand that felt fora wound was a soft look in the brave bright eyes, as he said to himselfwith a smile,--
"'Dear old mother hasn't lost her boy yet, thank God!'
"A colored lad picked me up, as I lay shining on the grass, and pinsbeing scarce in those parts, gave me to his mammy, who kept me to fastenher turban. Quite a new scene I found, for in the old cabin were a dozenchildren and their mothers making ready to go North. The men were allaway fighting or serving the army, so mammy led the little troop, andthey marched off one day following the gay turban like a banner, for shehad a valiant soul, and was bound to find safety and freedom for herchildren at all risks.
"In my many wanderings to and fro, I never made so strange a journey asthat one, but I enjoyed it, full of danger, weariness and privation asit was; and every morning when mammy put on the red and yellowhandkerchief I was proud to sit aloft on that good gray head, and leadthe forlorn little army toward a land of liberty.
"We got there at last, and she fell to work over a washtub to earn thebread for the hungry mouths. I had stood by her through all those wearyweeks, and did not want to leave her now, but went off pinning a paperround some clean clothes on a Saturday morning.
"'Now I wonder what will come next!' I thought, as Thomas Jefferson, or'Jeff,' as they called him, went whistling away with the parcel throughthe streets.
"Crossing the park, he spied a lovely butterfly which had strayed infrom the country; caught and pinned it on his hat to please little Dinahwhen he got home. The pretty creature soon writhed its delicate lifeaway, but its beauty attracted the eye of a pale girl hurrying alongwith a roll of work under her arm.
"'Will you sell me that?' she asked, and Jeff gladly consented,wondering what she would do with it. So did I, but when we got to herroom I soon saw, for she pinned the impaled butterfly against a bit ofblue paper, and painted it so well that its golden wings seemed toquiver as they did in life. A very poor place it was, but full of lovelythings, and I grew artistic with just looking about me at the pictureson the walls, the flowers blooming on plates and panels, birds andinsects kept for copies, and gay bits of stuff used as back-grounds.
"But more beautiful than anything she made was the girl's quiet, busylife alone in the big city; for, she was hoping to be an artist, andworked day and night to compass her desire. So poor, but so happy, Iused to wonder why no one helped her and kept her from such hard, yetpatient, waiting. But no one did, and I could watch her toiling away asI held the butterfly against the wall, feeling as if it was a symbol ofherself, beating her delicate wings in that close place till her heartwas broken, by the cruel fate that held her there when she should havebeen out in the free sunshine. But she found a good customer for herpretty work, in a rich lady who had nothing to do but amuse herself, andspent much time and money in fancy-work.
"I know all about it; for, one day an order came from the great storewhere her designs were often bought, and she was very happy paintingsome purple pansies upon velvet, and she copied her yellow butterfly tofloat above them.
"The poor insect was very dry, and crumbled at a touch, so my task therewas done, and as my mistress rolled up the packet, she took me to fastenit securely, singing as she did so, for every penny was precious.
"We all went together to the rich lady, and she embroidered the flowerson a screen very like that one yonder. I thought she would throw meaway, I was so battered now, but she took a fancy to use me in variousways about her canvas work, and I lived with her all winter. A kindlady, my dear, but I often wished I could suggest to her better ways ofspending her life than everlasting fancy-work. She never seemed to seethe wants of those about her, never lent an ear to the poor, or founddelight in giving of her abundance to those who had little, to brightentheir lives; but sighed because she had nothing to do when the world wasfull of work, and she blessed with so many good gifts to use and toenjoy. I hope she will see her mistake some day, and not waste all herlife on trifles, else she will regret it sadly by and by."
Here the pin paused with a keen glance at Miss Ellen, who had suddenlybegun to sew with a bright color in her cheeks, for the purple pansieswere on the screen that stood before her fire-place, and she recognizedthe portrait of herself in that last description. But she did not fancybeing lectured by a pin, so she asked with a smile as she plaited up herlace,--
"That is all very interesting, but you have not yet told me what becomesof the pins, Granny."
"Pins, like people, shape their own lives, in a great measure, my dear,and go to their reward when they are used up. The good ones sink intothe earth and turn to silver, to come forth again in a new and preciousform. The bad ones crumble away to nothing in cracks and dust heaps,with no hope of salvation, unless some human hand lifts them up andgives them a chance to try again. Some are lazy, and slip out of sightto escape service, some are too sharp, and prick and scratch whereverthey are. Others are poor, weak things, who bend up and lose their headsas soon as they are used. Some obtrude themselves on all occasions, andsome are never to be found in times of need. All have the choice to wearout or to rust out. I chose the former, and have had a useful, happylife so far. I'm not as straight as I once was, but I'm bright still, mypoint is sharp, my head firm, and age has not weakened me much, I hope,but made me wiser, better, and more contented to do my duty wherever Iam, than when I left my native paper long ago."
Before Miss Ellen could express her respect for the worthy old pin, adismal groan was heard from the blue cushion, and a small voice croakedaloud,--
"Alas, alas, I chose to rust out, and here I am, a miserable, worthlessthing, whom no one can use or care for. Lift the ruffle, and behold asad contrast to the faithful, honest, happy Granny, who has told us sucha varied tale."
"Bless me, what possesses everything to-day!" exclaimed Miss Ellen,looking under the frill of the old cushion to see who was speaking now.There to be sure she found a pin hidden away, and so rusty that shecould hardly pull it out. But it came creaking forth at the third tug,and when it was set up beside Granny, she cried out in her cheery way,--
"Try Dr. Emery, he can cure most cases of rust, and it is never too lateto mend, neighbor."
"Too late for me!" sighed the new comer. "The rust of idleness has eateninto my vitals while I lay in my silken bed, and my chance is goneforever. I was bright, and strong, and sharp once, but I feared work andworry, and I hid, growing duller, dimmer, and more useless every day. Iam good for nothing, throw me away, and let the black pins mourn for awasted life."
"No," said Miss Ellen, "you are not useless, for you two shall sittogether in my new cushion, a warning to me, as well as to the otherpins, to choose the right way in time, and wear out with doing our duty,rather than rust out as so many do. Thank you, Granny, for your littlelecture. I will not forget it, but go at once and find that poor girl,and help her all I can. Rest here, you good old soul, and teach theselittle things to follow your example."
As she spoke, Miss Ellen set the two pins in the middle of the red satincushion, stuck the smaller pins round them, and hastened to put on hershawl lest something should prevent her from going.
"Take me with you; I'm not tired, I love to work! use me, dear mistress,and let me help in the good work!" cried Granny, with a lively skip thatsent her out upon the bureau.
So Miss Ellen pinned her shawl with the old pin instead of the finebrooch she had in her hand, and they went gaily away together, leavingthe rusty one to bemoan itself, and all the little ones to privatelyresolve that they would not hide away from care and labor, but taketheir share bravely and have a good record to show when they went, atlast where the good pins go.
THE END.
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