----------------------

"Mother," Laura said, after Maida had gone, "Maida Flynn told me
that her father gave her a birthday party last year and invited five
hundred children to it and they had a theater and a Punch and Judy
show and all sorts of things. Do you think it's true?"

Mrs. Lathrop set her lips firmly. "No, I think it is probably not
true. I think you'd better not play with the little Flynn girl any
more."

----------------------

The next afternoon, Maida went, as she had promised, to see Dicky.

She could see at a glance that Mrs. Dore was having a hard struggle
to support her little family. In the size and comfort of its
furnishings, the place was the exact opposite of the Lathrop home.
But, somehow, there was a wonderful feeling of home there.

"Dicky, how do you manage to keep so clean here?" Maida asked in
genuine wonder.

And indeed, hard work showed everywhere. The oilcloth shone like
glass. The stove was as clean as a newly-polished shoe. The rows of
pans on the wall fairly twinkled. Delicious smells were filling the
air. Maida guessed that Dicky was making one of the Irish stews that
were his specialty.

"See that little truck over there?" Dicky said. "That helps a lot.
Arthur Duncan made that for me. You see we have to keep our coal in
that closet, way across the room. I used to get awful tired filling
the coal-hod and lugging it over to the stove. But now you see I
fill that truck at the closet, wheel it over to the stove and I
don't have to think of coal for three days."

"Arthur must be a very clever boy," Maida said thoughtfully.

"You bet he is. See that tin can in the sink? Well, I wanted a
soap-shaker but couldn't afford to get one. Arthur took that can and
punched the bottom full of holes. I keep it filled up with all the
odds and ends of soap. When I wash the dishes, I just let the
boiling water from the kettle flow through it. It makes water grand
and soapy. Arthur made me that iron dish-rag and that dish-mop."

A sleepy cry came from the corner. Dicky swung across the room.
Balancing himself against the cradle there, he lifted the baby to
the floor. "She can't walk yet but you watch her go," he said
proudly.

Go! The baby crept across the room so fast that Maida had to run to
keep up with her. "Oh, the love!" she said, taking Delia into her
arms. "Think of having a whole baby to yourself."

"Can't leave a thing round where she is