re crushed and he earned a
fresh reproof.

Miss Bonnicastle had remained an amused observer of the whole scene,
though the actors in it had apparently forgotten her presence. To remind
them of this, she inquired, "Children, will you please tell me how much
your peanuts were worth?"

"Cent a bag!" promptly returned Glory, selecting the best looking packet
and holding it toward this possible customer.

"All of them, I mean. I wish to pay you for all of them," explained the
lady, opening her purse.

Too surprised to speak for herself, Nick answered for the vender, "They
was fifty bags, that's fifty cents, an' five fer commish. If it'd been a
hunderd, 'twould ha' been a dime. Glory, she's the best seller Toni
Salvatore's got, an' he often chucks her in a bag fer herself, besides.
Fifty-five'd be fair, eh, Take-a-Stitch?"

Glancing at Glory's sunny face, Miss Laura did not wonder at the child's
success. Almost anybody would buy from her for the sake of bringing
forth one of those flashing smiles, but the girl had now found her own
voice and indignantly cried:

"Oh, parson, if you ain't the cheat, I never! Chargin' money for goobers
what's smashed! Think you'll get a lot for yourself, don't you? Well,
you won't an' you needn't look to, so there."

Thus having rebuked her too zealous champion Glory explained to Miss
Bonnicastle that "they couldn't be more'n twenty-five good bags left.
They belongs to Antonio Salvatore, the peanut man. I was goin' to buy
needles an' thread with part, needin' needles most, but no matter.
Better luck next time. Do you really want a bag, lady?"

Again the tiny packet was extended persuasively, the small peddler being
most anxious to make a sale although her honesty forbade her accepting
payment for goods unsold.

But Miss Laura scarcely saw the paper bag, for she was looking with so
much interest upon the child's own face. Such a gay, helpful, hopeful
small face it was! Beneath a tangle of yellow curls, the brown eyes
looked forth so trustfully, and the wide mouth parted in almost
continual laughter over white and well-kept teeth. Then the white
carnation pinned to the faded, but clean, blue frock, gave a touch of
daintiness. Altogether, this seemed a charming little person to be found
in such a locality, where, commonly, the people were poor and ill-fed,
and looked sad rather than glad. The lady's surprise was expressed in
her question, "Little girl, where do you live? How came you in