village, throw stones at me, and
jeer and shout at my heels. I hate boys!"

"I'm sure Ned would not do that," said Mary; "he is always kind and
gentle, and would beat off bad boys if he saw them treating you in that
way."

"No, he wouldn't, he would join them, and behave like the rest. They
are all alike, boys! Mischievous little imps!"

Mary felt very indignant at hearing Ned thus designated, but she
repressed her rising anger, pitying the forlorn old man, and smiling,
said, "You will find you are mistaken in regard to Ned, Mr Shank; he is
outside, and I must not keep him waiting longer. But I was nearly
forgetting that I have a book to give you, which Aunt Sally thought you
would like to read. It is in large print, so that you need not try your
eyes."

Mary, as she spoke, produced a thin book from her basket, and presented
it to the old man. He glanced at it with indifference.

"I do not care about this sort of thing," he said. "I wonder people
spend money in having such productions printed. A loss of time to print
them, and a loss of time to read them!"

"Aunt Sally will be much disappointed if you do not keep the book," said
Mary, quietly; "you might like to read it when you are all alone and
have nothing else to do."

"Well, well, as she has sent me the pudding, I'll keep the book; she
means kindly, I dare say, and I do not wish to make you carry it back.
What! must you go, little girl? You'll come and see me again some day,
and bring another nice pudding, won't you?" said the old man, looking at
Mary with a more amiable expression in his eyes than they generally
wore.

"Yes, I must go, I cannot, indeed, keep Ned waiting longer. Good-bye,
Mr Shank; you'll read the book, and I'll tell Aunt Sally what you say,"
said Mary, taking up her basket and tripping out of the room.

"Don't let that boy Ned you spoke of throw stones in at my window. You
see how others have broken the panes, and it would cost too much money
to have them repaired."

He said this as he followed Mary with a shuffling step to the door.

"Ned would never dream of doing anything of the sort," she answered, now
feeling greatly hurt at the remark.

"They're all alike, they're all alike," muttered the old man; "but you,
I dare say, can keep him in order. I didn't mean to offend you, little
girl," he added, observing Mary's grave look, as she turned round to
wish him good-bye before going through the doorway.

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