give me a
shilling. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. There are your
presents; and now for the children!"

Madame showed a decided disposition to reward personal beauty, which
Jack overruled at once.

"The prettiest? I see myself letting you! Church Sunday scholars is my
tip; and I shall put them through the Catechism test. Look here, young
un, what's your name? Who gave you this name?"

"Ma godfeythers and godmoothers," the young urchin began.

"That'll do," said Jack. "Take your whip, and be thankful. Now, my
little lass, who gave you this name?"

"Me godfeythers----"

"All right. Take your doll, and drop a curtsy; and mind you don't take
the curtsy, and drop your doll. Now, my boy, tell me how many there
be?"

"Ten."

"Which be they? I mean, take your monkey, and make your bow. Next child,
come up."

Clem, Eleanor, and I kept back the crowd as well as we could; but
children pressed in on all sides. Clem brought a shilling out of his
pocket, and handed it over to Jack.

"You've won your bet, old man," he said.

"You're a good fellow, Clem. I say, lay it out among the halfpenny
lot--will you?--and then give them to Madame. Keep your eye open for
Dissenters, and send the Church children first."

The forty-eight halfpennyworths proved to be sufficient for all,
however, though the orthodoxy of one or two seemed doubtful.

Madame was tired; but the position had pleased her, and she gave away
the toys with a charming grace. We were leaving the fair when some small
urchins, who had either got or hoped to get presents, and were (I
suspected) partly impelled also by a sense of the striking nature of
Madame's appearance, set up a lusty cheer.

Madame paused. Her eyes brightened; her thin lips parted with a smile.
In a voice of intense satisfaction, she murmured:

"It is the Briteesh hooray!"

CHAPTER XXIV.

WE AND THE BOYS--WE AND THE BOYS AND OUR FADS--THE LAMP OF ZEAL--CLEMENT
ON UNREALITY--JACK'S OINTMENT.

Our life on the moors was, I suppose, monotonous. I do not think we ever
found it dull; but it was not broken, as a rule, by striking incidents.

The coming and going of the boys were our chief events. We packed for
them when they went away. We wrote long letters to them, and received
brief but pithy replies. We spoke on their behalf when they wanted
clothes or pocket-money. We knew exactly how to bring the news of good
marks in school and increased subscriptions to cricket to bear i