still held her apron up, thanking fortune it was so large; and little
Sarah, waking, began to creep down and toddle along to hold her apron
too, crowing and capering at the strange scene, the glitter, and the
joy. At last there were no more,--there was only the memorandum on a bit
of parchment, telling the story of the sealing of the bags by the old
Tory ancestor in troublous times, and their destined concealment behind
his wife's portrait.

"Here are more thousands of dollars than you have fingers and toes,
little Cinderella!" cried Frederick. "You can afford to wear glass
slippers for the rest of your life! It is all your godmother's doings,
and she was a fine old English gentlewoman, who acted wisely and for the
benefit of posterity. Never say I disbelieved in my ancestors!"

"O yes," said Helen, "all very fine now. For my part, I was sure of it
long ago!"

"I sha'n't dare to close an eye to-night for fear of burglars!" cried
Margaret. "That I sha'n't!"

"Now mother, mother dear," exclaimed Helen, coming and taking her
mother's thin hand and plunging it deep down among the sliding coins
that were tearing down her strong apron with their weight, "'tis almost
as much as I can carry! Tommy may go to school now, and you can have the
Doctor and get well, and what can't we, what sha'n't we have! Margaret
needn't teach any more,--we can have the house made over, we can keep a
girl,--and gold at 240!--O, I think I shall lose my wits!" And down it
would all have gone upon the floor but for Frederick.

"Don't, Nelly," said he, "we shall want them,--the guineas I mean, of
course not the wits. What use have they been to us all these years,
except to make gowns out of cobwebs and dinners out of dew? Now let us
count our wealth, and then--"

"No," said Nelly, "my stew will be good for nothing if we wait, and
mother is famished. We're comfortable, we know; if we're rich, we can
find it out after supper. I wish I hadn't killed my cropple-crowns. Now
Tommy, Tommy Fotherington, you never need spell water again as long as
you live, for it was that blessed word that put Tommy in the closet,
that kicked the door, that shook the house, that loosened the panel,
that poured out the guineas, that made the starving Fotheringtons a
richer and happier family than ever sat round the old Tory Governor's
table!"

_Harriet E. Prescott._

FARMING FOR BOYS.

No. II.

(_Continued from pa