the order of the day
every afternoon, she must go to see Molly in the morning. This time she
had a good deal to carry and to get ready. Molly was in want of bread.
A nice little loaf, fresh baked, was supplied by Joanna, along with some
cold rolls.

"She will like those, I dare say," said Daisy. "I dare say she never saw
rolls in her life before. Now she wants some meat, Joanna. There was
nothing but a little end of cold pork on the dish in her cupboard."

"Why I wonder who cooks for the poor wretch?" said Joanna.

"I think she cooks for herself, because she has a stove, and I saw iron
things and pots to cook with. But she can't do much, Joanna, and I don't
believe she knows how."

"Sick, is she too?" said Joanna.

"Sick with rheumatism, so that she did not like to stir."

"I guess I must go take a look at her; but maybe she mightn't let me.
Well, Miss Daisy, the way will be for you to tell me what she wants, if
you can find out. She must have neighbours, though, that take care of
her."

"We are her neighbours," said Daisy.

Joanna looked, a look of great complacency and some wonder, at the
child; and packed forthwith into Daisy's basket the half of a cold
chicken and a broken peach pie. A bottle of milk Daisy particularly
desired, and a little butter; and she set off at last, happier than a
queen--Esther or any other--to go to Molly with her supplies.

She found not much improvement in the state of affairs. Molly was
gathered up on her hearth near the stove, in which she had made a fire;
but it did not appear, for all that Daisy could see, that anything else
had been done or any breakfast eaten that morning. The cripple seemed to
be in a down-hearted and hopeless state of mind; and no great wonder.

"Molly, would you like another cup of tea?" said her little friend.

"Yes, it's in there. You fix it,"--said the poor woman, pointing as
before to the cupboard, and evidently comforted by Daisy's presence and
proposal. Daisy could hear it in the tone of her voice. So, greatly
pleased herself, Daisy went to work in Molly's house just as if she was
at home. She fetched water in the kettle again and made up the fire.
While that was getting ready, she set the table for breakfast. The only
table that Molly could use was a piece of board nailed on a chair. On
this Daisy put her plate and cup and saucer, and with secret glee
arranged the cold chicken and loaf of bread. For the cupboard, as she
saw, was as empty as sh