The things
will be taken away from them, and sold. You would have to keep
doing, over and over, to no purpose, I am afraid."

"I'll see to that," said Luclarion, facing her "stump." "We'll do
for them we can do for; if it ain't ones, it will be tothers. Those
that don't keep their things, can't have 'em; and if they're taken
away, I won't sell bread to the women they belong to, till they're
brought back. Besides, the _washing_ kind of sorts 'em out,
beforehand. 'Taint the worst ones that are willing to come, or to
send, for that. You always have to work in at an edge, in anything,
and make your way as you go along. It'll regulate. I'm _living_
there right amongst 'em; I've got a clew, and a hold; I can follow
things up; I shall have a 'circle;' there's circles everywhere. And
in all the wheels there's a moving _spirit_; you ain't got to depend
just on yourself. Things work; the Lord sees to it; it's _His_
business as much as yours."

Hazel told Uncle Titus that there were shoes and stockings and gowns
wanted down in Neighbor Street; things for ten children; they must
have subscriptions. And so she had come to him.

The Ripwinkleys had never given Uncle Titus a Christmas or a
birthday present, for fear they should seem to establish a mutual
precedent. They had never talked of their plans which involved
calculation, before him; they were terribly afraid of just one thing
with him, and only that one,--of anything most distantly like what
Desire Ledwith called "a Megilp bespeak." But now Hazel went up to
him as bold as a lion. She took it for granted he was like other
people,--"real folks;" that he would do--what must be done.

"How much will it cost?"

"For clothes and shoes for each child, about eight dollars for three
months, we guess," said Hazel. "Mother's going to pay for the
washing!"

"_Guess_? Haven't you calculated?"

"Yes, sir. 'Guess' and 'calculate' mean the same thing in Yankee,"
said Hazel, laughing.

Uncle Titus laughed in and out, in his queer way, with his shoulders
going up and down.

Then he turned round, on his swivel chair, to his desk, and wrote a
check for one hundred dollars.

"There. See how far you can make that go."

"That's good," said Hazel, heartily, looking at it; "that's
splendid!" and never gave him a word of personal thanks. It was a
thing for mutual congratulations, rather, it would seem; the "good"
was just what they all wanted, and there it was. Why should anybody
in pa