, begging for scraps of food
and a night's lodging. Her clothes were coarse and ragged; her hair was
scanty and grey; her back was bent; her teeth were gone. She had a
squinting eye, a clubbed foot, and crooked fingers. In short, she was
the poorest and ugliest old woman that ever came begging.

The first who saw her was the kitchen maid, and she ordered her to be
gone for an ugly witch. The next was the herd-boy, and he threw her a
bone. But Childe Charity, hearing the noise, came out from her seat at
the foot of the lowest table, and asked the old woman to take her share
of the supper, and sleep that night in her bed in the back garret.

The old woman sat down without a word of thanks. All the people laughed
at Childe Charity for giving her bed and her supper to a beggar. Her
proud cousins said it was just like her mean spirit, but Childe Charity
did not mind them. She scraped the pots for her supper that night, and
slept on a sack among the lumber, while the old woman rested in her warm
bed. And next morning, before the little girl awoke, she was up and
gone, without so much as saying thank you, or good morning.

That day all the servants were sick after the feast, and mostly cross
too--so you may judge how civil they were; when, at supper time, who
should come to the back door but the old woman, again asking for broken
scraps of food and a night's lodging. No one would listen to her or give
her a morsel, till Childe Charity rose from her seat at the foot of the
lowest table, and kindly asked her to take her supper, and sleep in her
bed in the back garret.

Again the old woman sat down without a word. Childe Charity scraped the
pots for her supper, and slept on the sack. In the morning the old woman
was gone; but for six nights after, as sure as the supper was spread,
there was she at the back door, and the little girl always asked her in.

Childe Charity's aunt said she would let her get enough of beggars. Her
cousins made game of what they called her genteel visitor. Sometimes the
old woman said: "Child, why don't you make this bed softer? and why are
your blankets so thin?" but she never gave her a word of thanks, nor
a civil good morning.

[Illustration: THERE CAME IN A COMPANY OF LITTLE LADIES

_See page 84_]

At last, on the ninth night from her first coming, when Childe Charity
was getting used to scrape the pots and sleep on the sack, her knock
came to the door, and there she stood with an ugly ashy-c