nder
ordinary circumstances she would have gone with alacrity, but to-night
she had a hard toothache. She came to the door with her face all tied
up in a hop-poultice. "I'm 'fraid I can't go," she said dolefully.

But Patience begged and begged. "I'll spend my sixpence that uncle
Joseph gave me, and I'll buy you a whole card of peppermints," said
she finally, by way of inducement.

That won the day. Martha got few sweets, and if there was anything
she craved, it was the peppermints, which came, in those days, in big
beautiful cards, to be broken off at will. And to have a whole card!

So poor Martha tied her little napping sunbonnet over her swollen
cheeks, and went with Patience to see Nancy Gookin, who received the
message thankfully, and did not do them the least harm in the world.

Martha had really a very hard toothache. She did not sleep much that
night for all the hop-poultice, and she went to school the next day
feeling tired and cross. She was a nervous little girl, and never bore
illness very well. But to-day she had one pleasant anticipation. She
thought often of that card of peppermints. It had cheered her somewhat
in her uneasy night. She thought that Patience would surely bring them
to school. She came early herself and watched for her. She entered
quite late, just before the bell rang. Martha ran up to her. "I
haven't got the peppermints," said Patience. She had been crying.

Martha straightened up: "Why not?"

The tears welled out of Patience's eyes. "I can't find that sixpence
anywhere."

The tears came into Martha's eyes too. She looked as dignified as her
poulticed face would allow. "I never knew you told fibs, Patience
Mather," said she. "I don't believe my mother will want me to go with
you any more."

Just then the bell rang. Martha went crying to her seat, and the
others thought it was on account of her toothache. Patience kept back
her tears. She was forming a desperate resolution. When recess came,
she got permission to go to the store which was quite near, and she
bought a card of peppermints with the Squire's sixpence. She had
pulled out the palm-leaf strand on her way, thrusting it into her
pocket guiltily. She felt as if she were committing sacrilege. These
sixpences, which Squire Bean bestowed upon worthy scholars from time
to time, were ostensibly for the purpose of book-marks. That was the
reason for the palm-leaf strand. The Squire took the sixpences to the
blacksmith who stamp