he old perversity gave a relish to the reformation, for even while
she resolved to do the just and generous thing, she said to herself,--

"They say I've got no heart; I'll show 'em that I have: they don't
want my money; I'll _make_ 'em take it: they turn their backs on me;
I'll just render myself so useful and agreeable that they can't do
without me."

III

Aunt Kipp sat bolt upright in the parlor, hemming a small
handkerchief, adorned with a red ship, surrounded by a border of
green monkeys. Toady suspected that this elegant article of dress was
intended for him, and yearned to possess it; so, taking advantage of
his mother's and Polly's absence, he strolled into the room, and,
seating himself on a high, hard chair, folded his hands, crossed his
legs, and asked for a story with the thirsting-for-knowledge air which
little boys wear in the moral story-books.

Now Aunt Kipp had one soft place in her heart, though it _was_
partially ossified, as she very truly declared, and Toady was
enshrined therein. She thought there never was such a child, and loved
him as she had done his father before him, though the rack wouldn't
have forced her to confess it. She scolded, snubbed, and predicted
he'd come to a bad end in public; but she forgave his naughtiest
pranks, always brought him something when she came, and privately
intended to make his future comfortable with half of her fortune.
There was a dash and daring, a generosity and integrity, about the
little fellow, that charmed her. Sophy was weak and low-spirited,
Polly pretty and headstrong, and Aunt Kipp didn't think much of either
of them; but Toady defied, distracted, and delighted her, and to Toady
she clung, as the one sunshiny thing in her sour, selfish old age.

When he made his demure request, she looked at him, and her eyes began
to twinkle, for the child's purpose was plainly seen in the loving
glances cast upon the pictorial pocket-handkerchief.

"A story? Yes, I'll tell you one about a little boy who had a kind
old--ahem!--grandma. She was rich, and hadn't made up her mind who she'd
leave her money to. She was fond of the boy,--a deal fonder than he
deserved,--for he was as mischievous a monkey as any that ever lived
in a tree, with a curly tail. He put pepper in her snuff-box,"--here
Toady turned scarlett,--"he cut up her bestt frisette to make a mane
for his rocking-horse,"--Toady opened his mouth impulsively, but shut
it again without betraying hims