plate of
sandwiches before him.

"Here's some money, sir, for your sick children," cried Dotty, with an
air of importance.

"Blessings on your pretty face," replied the man, eagerly.

Dotty cast a triumphant glance at Jennie.

"Ahem! This is better than nothing," added the beggar, in a different
tone, after he had counted the money. "And now haven't any of the rest
of you little maidens something to give a poor old wayfarer that's been
in the wars and stove himself up for his country?"

There was no reply from any one of the little girls, even tender Prudy.
And as Dotty saw her precious scrip swallowed up in that dreadfully
dingy wallet, it suddenly occurred to her that she had not done such a
very wise thing, after all.

"Why don't you eat your luncheon, sir?" said Jennie Vance; for the man,
after taking up the slices of bread and looking at them had put them
down again with an air of disdain.

"I thought, by the looks of the house, that Christians lived here," said
he, shaking his head slowly. "Haven't you a piece of apple pie, or a cup
custard, to give a poor man that's been in prison for you in the south
country? Not so much as a cup of coffee or a slice of beefsteak? No. I
see how it is," he added, wiping his face and rising with an effort;
"you are selfish, good-for-nothing creeters, the whole of you. Here I've
been wasting my time, and all I get for it is just dog's victuals, and
enough scrip to light my pipe."

With this he began to walk off, puffing. Dotty longed to run after him
and call out, "Please, sir, give me back my money." But it was too late;
and summoning all her pride, she managed to crush down the tears.

"Tell the people in this house that I shake off the dust of my feet
against them," wheezed the stranger, indignantly. "The dust of my
feet--do you hear?"

"What a wicked, disagreeable old thing!" murmured Jennie Vance.

"Dish-gwee-bly old fing!" cried "Flyaway," nodding her head till her
hair danced like little tufts of corn-silk.

"I'm glad I didn't give him any of _my_ money," said Jennie, loftily.

"So am I," returned Susy.

Prudy said nothing.

"I didn't see him shake his feet," said Dotty, changing the subject;
"and the dust wouldn't come off if he did shake 'em."

"Have you any more Christmas money left, Dotty," said Jennie, twirling
her gold ring on her finger.

"O, yes, ever so much at home. And I shall soon have more," added Dotty,
with a great effort to be cheerful;