DOROTHY'S PROBLEM.

I've only a single quarter left Of all my allowance, that looked so large On last pay-day, when dear mamma Said, "Now, you must neither borrow nor 'charge,' But keep out of debt, and never forget That dollars are made of single cents." I'm sure I've tried, but it's very hard To keep to the rule of your good intents. There were creams and bonbons the other day, And a box of paper, and, let me see, A bunch of the dearest violets Tucked into my jacket flap. Ah! me, They faded and died, and I almost cried; It seemed a shame with my funds so low; But the wonderful thing is, do your best To save, and still your money will go! And where will my Christmas gifts come in? Pray, what can I buy with this little bit For papa and mamma and Fred and Nell? Of course, I ought to have thought of it A month ago, but I didn't, you know. And here is my purse so flat and thin; I'm just as discouraged as I can be, For where will my Christmas gifts come in? M. E. S.