ers who takes care of her, I believe; but they haven't much
to live upon, and the daughter isn't smart. Mrs. Parsons hasn't anything
fit for her to eat, unless somebody sends it to her."

"What's the matter with her? ain't she going to get well?"

"No, never--she will always be obliged to lie on her bed as long as she
lives; and so, you see, Joanna, she hasn't appetite for coarse things."

"Humph!" said Joanna. "Custards won't give it to her. What does the
daughter live upon?"

"She does washing for people; but of course that don't give her much.
They are very poor, I know."

"Well, what would you like to take her, Miss Daisy?"

"Mother said you'd know."

"Well, I'll tell you what _I_ think--sweetmeats ain't good for such
folks. You wait till afternoon, and you shall have a pail of nice broth
and a bowl of arrowroot with wine and sugar in it; that'll hearten her
up. Will that do?"

"But I should like to take something to the other poor woman, too."

"How are you going?"

"In my pony-chaise--I can take anything."

Joanna muttered an ejaculation. "Well then, Miss Daisy, a basket of cold
meat wouldn't come amiss, I suppose."

"And some bread, Joanna?"

"The chaise won't hold so much."

"It has got to hold the basket," said Daisy in much glee, "and the bread
can go in. And, Joanna, I'll have it ready at half-past four o'clock."

There was no air of moping about Daisy, when, at half-past four she set
off from the house in her pony-chaise, laden with pail and basket and
all she had bargained for. A happier child was seldom seen. Sam, a
capable black boy, was behind her on a pony not too large to shame her
own diminutive equipage; and Loupe, a good-sized Shetland pony, was very
able for more than his little mistress was going to ask of him. Her
father looked on, pleased, to see her departure; and when she had
gathered up her reins, leaned over her and gave her with his kiss a
little gold piece to go with the pail and basket. It crowned Daisy's
satisfaction; with a quiet glad look and word of thanks to her father,
she drove off.

[Illustration: LOUPE.]

The pony waddled along nicely, but as his legs were none of the longest,
their rate of travelling was not precisely of the quickest. Daisy was
not impatient. The afternoon was splendid, the dust had been laid by
late rains, and Daisy looked at her pail and basket with great
contentment. Before she had gone a quarter of a mile from home, she met
her little f