lly over her childish shoulders, with her sharply pretty,
hungry-eyed little face peering meekly out of the green gloom of the
great pumpkin hood, Mrs. Edwards gave her orders. "There," said she,
"you take this bowl, an' you be real careful and don't let it fall
and break it, nor slop the stew over my best shawl, an' you carry it
down the road to Doctor Prescott's; an' whoever comes to the door,
whether it's the hired girl, or Lawrence, or the hired man, you ask
to see Mis' Doctor Prescott. Don't you give this bowl to none of the
others, you mind. An' when Mis' Doctor Prescott comes, you courtesy
an' say, 'Good-mornin', Mis' Prescott. Mis' Abel Edwards sends you
her compliments, and hopes you're enjoyin' good health, an' begs
you'll accept this bowl of parsnip stew. She thought perhaps you
hadn't had any this season.'"

Mrs. Edwards repeated the speech in a little, fine, mincing voice,
presumably the one which Elmira was to use. "Can you remember that?"
she asked, sharply, in her natural tone.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Say it over."

Poor little Elmira Edwards said it over like a parrot, imitating her
mother's fine, stilted tone perfectly. In truth, it was a formula of
presentation which she had often used.

"Don't you forget the 'compliments,' an' 'I thought she hadn't had
any parsnip stew this season.'"

"No, ma'am."

"Take the bowl up, real careful, and carry it stiddy."

Elmira threw back the ends of the red cashmere shawl, lifted the big
bowl in her two small hands, and went out carrying it before her.
Jerome opened the door, and shut it after her.

"Now I guess Mis' Doctor Prescott won't think we're starvin' to death
here, if her husband has got a mortgage on our house," said Mrs.
Edwards. "I made up my mind that time she sent over that pitcher of
lamb broth that I'd send her somethin' back, if I lived. I wouldn't
have taken it anyhow, if it hadn't been for the rest of you. I guess
I'll let folks know we ain't quite beggars yet."

Jerome nodded. A look of entire sympathy with his mother came into
his face. "Guess so too," said he.

Mrs. Edwards threw back her head with stiff pride, as if it bore a
crown. "So far," said she, "nobody on this earth has ever give me a
thing that I 'ain't been able to pay 'em for in some way. I guess
there's a good many rich folks can't say 's much as that."

"Guess so too," said Jerome.

"Pass over your plate; you must be hungry by this time," said his
mother. She heaped his