ng. It was so
long since she had had any pretty, useless things that it put a lump in
her throat merely to think of giving them up. But she had promised and
she must give something to those poor little black orphans. Which of her
treasures should it be? When she tried to decide on any one, that one
seemed the dearest and most desirable of all. At last in despair she
gathered all her gifts--dominoes, handkerchief, book, candy--in her
apron, ran with them to the sitting-room and dumped them on the table
before Miss Farlow, with "Here! for the old orphans."

Miss Farlow opened her mouth but before words could come Anne was gone.
She crouched down with Honey-Sweet between her bed and the wall and
sobbed as if her heart would break.

"I wouldn't mind so much," she explained to Honey-Sweet, "I wouldn't
mind so much if I could have taken out one teeny piece of chocolate
with the darling little silver tongs. I haven't had a box of candy for
months and months. And, oh! Honey-Sweet, I read just three chapters in
that beautiful book, and now I'll never, never know what became of that
dear little boy."

At teatime Anne, red-eyed and unsmiling, met Miss Farlow on the stairs.

"Ah! Anne Lewis," said the lady, looking over her spectacles. "You are a
generous child. I only asked and expected some old toys. It was generous
of you to bring your pretty new gifts. But I hardly feel that you ought
to give away the Christmas presents your friends selected for you to
enjoy. I think you'd better take them back." Anne's face shone like the
sun coming from behind a cloud. "Instead, you can give--oh! some old
thing--give that rag doll to put in the box for the little orphans." The
sun went under a dark cloud.

"Oh!" Anne faltered. Then she hurried on: "Can't no old orphans have
Honey-Sweet. You keep the dominoes and the book and the handkerchief and
the candy. And they may have my gold beads, too. But not Honey-Sweet.
I'd rather have her than Christmas. There--there's a lonesome spot she
just fits in."

"You'd rather give away your pretty new things than that old rag doll?"
Miss Farlow was amazed.

"A million times!" cried Anne, hugging her baby fondly.

"What a queer child you are, Anne Lewis!" said Miss Farlow. "Well, well!
keep your doll, of course, if you wish."

Anne gave her an impulsive kiss. "Thank you, Miss Farlow! You are so
good," she said.

The holidays over, the routine of daily life was resumed. The days and
weeks and m