Hewlett received a Bible, his sister Polly a warm cape, Lizzie a
petticoat, little Judy a doll, but on the very last Sunday, Jem, always
a black sheep, had been detected in kicking Jenny Morris at church over
a screw of peppermint drops which they had clubbed together to purchase
from Goody Spurrell. The scent and Jenny's sobs had betrayed them in
the thick of the combat, and in the face of so recent and so flagrant a
misdemeanour, neither combatant could be allowed a prize, though the
buns were presented to them through Mary's softness of heart.

These stayed the tears for the moment, but a fresh shower was pumped up
by Jem for the sympathetic reception of his mother. "It was a shame! it
was; but they ladies always had a spite at the poor little lad. He
should have some nice bull's-eyes to make up to him, that he should!
What call had they to be at him when it was all along of that there
nasty little Jenny."

Nevertheless, at the gate she shared her wrath with Jenny's mother.
What call had they to want to make the poor children to be like parsons
at church? Jem shouldn't be there no more, she could tell them.

Then Nanny Barton chimed in. "And look what they did give! Just a
twopenny-halfpenny handkercher that her Tom would be ashamed to wear!"

He wasn't, for it was thick and warm, and had been chosen because his
poor little neck looked so blue. But Molly went on. "Ladies did ought
to know what became 'em to give. There was my Lady Duchess, she gave
'em all scarlet cloaks, and stuff frocks, as there was some warmth in.
That was worth having--given to all alike! No talk of prizes, for what
I'd not demean myself to pick up out of the gutter."

"And look at mine," proceeded Molly. "My Johnnie's got a Bible, as if
there wasn't another in the house, let alone Judith's. His father, he
did say he'd pawn it; but Johnnie he cried, and Judith made a work, and
hid it for him. But his father, he says he wouldn't have Johnnie made
religious, not for nothing--Judith she's quite bad enough."

"Oh! our Polly--she got a little skimping cape, what don't come down to
her poor little elbows. If I went for to be a lady, I'd be ashamed to
give the like of that."

Happily every one did not receive the gifts in this spirit. There was
much rejoicing over the Testament, frock, and Psalter of the little
Moles, and their grandfather observed, "Well, you did ought to be good
children, there were no such encouragements when I