who wants to leave a nice home because she
can't have her own way, needn't look for any dinner here! I expected you
to dine on butter crackers and bears."

"I like chicken, I do," said proud little Zay with appealing eyes, but
no tears; "and then I lost all my pennies!"

In vain did the tender hearted grandma pull mamma's dress,--mamma
entered the dining room and shut the door; and up came poor Zay to the
room where I awaited my dinner, for she had seen a tray borne hither.
But she did not know that her mamma's parting injunction had been, "you
must not give her anything! I must--indeed, I _wish_ to teach my child a
lesson."

Little sun-hat and empty porte-monnaie put away, quietly she seated
herself on the sofa opposite me, with two little fat feet hanging
dangling down. Dignity kept her silent, and amusement mingled with pity
made me so.

This state of things lasted for some moments, while the dainties were
diminishing from my plate. Every mouthful was wistfully watched. At
length with grave old-fashioned face, she asked, "Are you sorry for
beggar chil'en, Aunty?"

"Very sorry indeed," I replied with composure.

Then with a tremor in the voice:

"Aunty, if you saw a little child in the street a starvin' to death for
some bread and butter wif jelly on it, wouldn't you give her some?"

I shook my head. Another pause, and then with little fat hands clasped,
and voice full of sobs, poor little Zay cried out, "Oh, Aunty, if you
saw a little girl starvin' to death for sponge cake, wouldn't you give
her some?"

"How could I, Zay, if the little girl's mamma had forbidden it?"

All her fortitude was gone. She burst into tears. She laid her head down
on the sofa and sobbed.

"Oh, oh! and they had fricasseed chicken, with Mary's nice toast under
it; and you have sponge-cake and wine-jelly; and I haven't nuffin; there
isn't one single butter cracker in the house!"

At this climax of misery the house resounded with her lamentations, in
which my tears would mingle; but fortunately the dear grand-parents soon
appeared to comfort their darling. And so, somehow, up on grandpa's lap
it became easier to see how naughty it was to annoy good old Mary, and
how ungrateful it was to wish to run away from home. And pardons were
begged and kisses were given, and the three little silver pieces crept
back into the tiny porte-monnaie, and Zay had some of Mary's nice toast
with lots of gravy, and a drum-stick and a wish-bone.

Zay