"Ay, mother, we will."

Must I tell you about little Tom's "to-morrow."

I do not know if little Tom dreamed of what his mother and he had been
talking about, but I do know that the first thing he thought about, when
he awoke in the morning, was his mother's saying that he might try how
many kind actions he could do that day without money; and he was so
impatient to begin, that he jumped up and dressed himself, although
it was more than an hour before his usual time of getting up. All the
time he kept wondering what a little boy like him, only eight years old,
could do for other people; till at last he grew so puzzled with inventing
occasions for showing kindness, that he very wisely determined to think
no more about it, but learn his lessons very perfectly; that was the
first thing he had to do; and then he would try, without too much planning
beforehand, to keep himself ready to lend a helping hand, or to give
a kind word, when the right time came. So he screwed himself into a
corner, out of the way of his mother's sweeping and dusting, and tucked
his feet up on the rail of the chair, turned his face to the wall, and
in about half an hour's time, he could turn round with a light heart,
feeling he had learnt his lesson well, and might employ his time as he
liked till breakfast was ready. He looked round the room; his mother
had arranged all neatly, and was now gone to the bedroom; but the
coal-scuttle and the can for water were empty, and Tom ran away to fill
them; and as he came back with the latter from the pump, he saw Ann
Jones (the scold of the neighbourhood) hanging out her clothes on a line
stretched across from side to side of the little court, and speaking
very angrily and loudly to her little girl, who was getting into some
mischief in the house-place, as her mother perceived through the open
door.

"There never were such plagues as my children are, to be sure," said Ann
Jones, as she went into her house, looking very red and passionate.
Directly after, Tom heard the sound of a slap, and then a little child's
cry of pain.

"I wonder," thought he, "if I durst go and offer to nurse and play with
little Hester. Ann Jones is fearful cross, and just as likely to take me
wrong as right; but she won't box me for mother's sake; mother nursed
Jemmy many a day through the fever, so she won't slap me, I think. Any
rate, I'll try." But it was with a beating heart he said to the
fierce-looking Mrs. Jones, "Please, m