she asked , and Jeff gladly consented , wondering what she would do with it . So did I , but when we got to her room I soon saw , for she pinned the impaled butterfly against a bit of blue paper , and painted it so well that its golden wings seemed to quiver as they did in life . A very poor place it was , but full of lovely things , and I grew artistic with just looking about me at the pictures on the walls , the flowers blooming on plates and panels , birds and insects kept for copies , and gay bits of stuff used as back-grounds . `` But more beautiful than anything she made was the girl 's quiet , busy life alone in the big city ; for , she was hoping to be an artist , and worked day and night to compass her desire . So poor , but so happy , I used to wonder why no one helped her and kept her from such hard , yet patient , waiting . But no one did , and I could watch her toiling away as I held the butterfly against the wall , feeling as if it was a symbol of herself , beating her delicate wings in that close place till her heart was broken , by the cruel fate that held her there when she should have been out in the free sunshine . But she found a good customer for her pretty work , in a rich lady who had nothing to do but amuse herself , and spent much time and money in fancy-work . `` I know all about it ; for , one day an order came from the great store where her designs were often bought , and she was very happy painting some purple pansies upon velvet , and she copied her yellow butterfly to float above them . `` The poor insect was very dry , and crumbled at a touch , so my task there was done , and as my mistress rolled up the packet , she took me to fasten it securely , singing as she did so , for every penny was precious . `` We all went together to the rich lady , and she embroidered the flowers on a screen very like that one yonder . I thought she would throw me away , I was so battered now , but she took a fancy to use me in various ways about her canvas work , and I lived with her all winter . A kind lady , my dear , but I often wished I could suggest to her better ways of spending her life than everlasting fancy-work . She never seemed to see the wants of those about her , never lent an ear to the poor , or found delight in giving of her abundance to those who had little , to brighten their lives ; but sighed because she had nothing to do when the world was full of work , and she blessed with so many good gifts to use and to enjoy . I hope she will see her mistake some day , and not waste all her life on trifles , else she will regret it sadly by and by . '' Here the pin paused with a keen glance at Miss Ellen , who had suddenly begun to sew with a bright color in her cheeks , for the purple pansies were on the screen that stood before her fire-place , and she recognized the portrait of herself in that last description . But she did not fancy being lectured by a pin , so she asked with a smile as she plaited up her lace , -- `` That is all very interesting , but you have not yet told me what becomes of 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 into the earth and turn to silver , to come forth again in a new and precious form . The bad ones crumble away to nothing in cracks and dust heaps , with no hope of salvation , unless some human hand lifts them up and gives them a chance to try again . Some are lazy , and slip out of sight to escape service , some are too sharp , and prick and scratch wherever they are .
Others are poor , weak things , who bend up and lose their heads as soon as they are XXXXX .
battered bought come crumble lived looking pinned shape used wished