he parish," the first Sunday of every
month, and if you knew how _very_ little she had to live on, you would
agree with me that this shilling, which was not her only charity, was a
_good deal_. The morning I am writing of was the first Sunday of the
month, and as she set off for church she held in her thin old fingers
inside her well-worn muff two coins--a shilling and a halfpenny, the
halfpenny being intended for the first crossing-sweeper she met on her
way. This was another of her little customs. She had some way to go to
church, and she did not always choose the same streets, so she had no
special pet crossing-sweeper, and this morning it was Billy into whose
hand she dropped the coin she was holding in her tremulous fingers.

"Thank you, ma'am," said Billy, tugging at his ragged cap with the same
hand in which he had received the money, for he had his brush in the
other, and he was anxious to show his gratitude. It was his first
receipt that morning!

"Poor boy," thought the old lady, "he does look cold. I wish I could
have made it a penny."

But the kind wish had scarcely crossed her mind before she heard a voice
beside her.

"Please ma'am," it said, "do you know what you give me just now?"

And Billy, red with running, held out a very unmistakeable _shilling_!

The old lady gasped, and drew out the coin she was firmly clasping in
her muff. It was a rather extra worn halfpenny!

[Illustration: "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GIVE ME JUST NOW?"]

"Oh, my good boy!" she began, but Billy interrupted her. He saw at once
how it was. And if he gave a little sigh, can you wonder? It _would_
have been "jolly," if she had replied, "All right, my boy. I meant it
for you," and as he had run after her he had thought it _might_ be so.
For Billy was wise in some things, as the poor learn to be. He knew that
it is not by any means those who have most to give who give most.

But a glance at the troubled old face told him the truth.

"All right, ma'am," he said again. "'Twas a mistake. Mistakes will
happen," and he dropped the silver piece back into her hand.

"Take the halfpenny at least, my boy," said she. "It was very good, very
good indeed of you to tell me of my mistake. If it was money I could
spare on myself--but--it is my rule to give this once a month at church,
and--I could not make it up again."

"All right, ma'am," Billy repeated for the third time, anxious to be off
before the old lady could hear the choke of disap