s soil every day. If you can give some of those city children a
taste of the real thing, why, don't be selfish."

Elnora went down the road thinking of the city children with whom she
probably would divide. Of course, the bridge would be occupied again. So
she stopped and opened the box.

"I don't want to be selfish," murmured Elnora, "but it really seems as
if I can't give away this lunch. If mother did not put love into it,
she's substituted something that's likely to fool me."

She almost felt her steps lagging as she approached the bridge. A very
hungry dog had been added to the trio of children. Elnora loved all
dogs, and as usual, this one came to her in friendliness. The
children said "Good morning!" with alacrity, and another paper parcel
lay conspicuous.

"How are you this morning?" inquired Elnora.

"All right!" cried the three, while the dog sniffed ravenously at the
lunch box, and beat a perfect tattoo with his tail.

"How did you like the bologna?" questioned Billy eagerly.

"One of the girls took me to lunch at her home yesterday," answered
Elnora.

Dawn broke beautifully over Billy's streaked face. He caught the package
and thrust it toward Elnora.

"Then maybe you'd like to try the bologna to-day!"

The dog leaped in glad apprehension of something, and Belle scrambled to
her feet and took a step forward. The look of famished greed in her eyes
was more than Elnora could endure. It was not that she cared for the
food so much. Good things to eat had been in abundance all her life.
She wanted with this lunch to try to absorb what she felt must be
an expression of some sort from her mother, and if it were not a
manifestation of love, she did not know what to think it. But it was her
mother who had said "be generous." She knelt on the bridge. "Keep back
the dog!" she warned the elder boy.

She opened the box and divided the milk between Billy and the girl.
She gave each a piece of cake leaving one and a sandwich. Billy pressed
forward eagerly, bitter disappointment on his face, and the elder boy
forgot his charge.

"Aw, I thought they'd be meat!" lamented Billy.

Elnora could not endure that.

"There is!" she said gladly. "There is a little pigeon bird. I want a
teeny piece of the breast, for a sort of keepsake, just one bite, and
you can have the rest among you."

Elnora drew the knife from its holder and cut off the wishbone. Then she
held the bird toward the girl.

"You can divide it,"