me
tea and toast, and be quick about it, for I ain't had anything to
eat since breakfast, and feel kinder gone, at the stomach.

"Please write your order, ma'am, on this paper," said the waiter.

"What's the use of writin it? Can't you remember?"

"Yes, but the bill has to be footed up at the desk."

"Well, I can't write it, for I ain't got my specs about me."

"Madam, I shall be happy to write for you," said Ben politely.

"I'm obleeged to you. I wish you would," she said.

"What shall I put down?"

"How much is a cup of tea?"

"Ten cents."

"It's awful high. It don't cost 'em more'n three cents."

"Shall I put it down?"

"Yes, I must have it. How much do they charge for toast?"

"Dry toast--ten cents."

"That's awful high, too. Why, you can git ten slices off a
five-cent loaf, and they only bring you two or three. It costs
a sight to travel."

"Cream toast--twenty cents," said Ben mischievously.

"What is the world comin' to?" exclaimed the old lady. "Twenty
cents for cream toast! Like as not, it's skim-milk. Well, I guess
you may put down dry toast."

"Shall I put down anything else?" asked Ben.

"How much do they charge for beefsteak?" inquired the old lady.

"Fifty cents."

"It's wicked shame!" she exclaimed indignantly. "They're a set of
robbers, and I've a good mind to tell 'em so. You, sir"--to the
waiter who came up at that moment--"what do you mean by askin'
such shameful prices for your vittles?"

"I haven't anything to do with the prices, ma'am."

"I need some meat," said the old lady sternly, "but I won't buy any.
I won't encourage you in your shameful swindlin'. I'll bear up as
well as I can till I get home, though like as not I shall be faint."

The waiter took the written order, and brought the old lady's tea
and toast. Ben ordered some steak, and, finding that more was
brought than he needed, offered a piece to the old lady.

"Shan't I rob you?" asked the old lady, looking at the meat
covetously.

"Not at all, ma'am. I've taken all I want."

"Then I don't keer if I do take a piece. I feel kinder faint, and
meat goes to the right spot; but I wasn't going to pay any of their
shameful prices."

The old lady ate the meat with evident relish, and an expression
satisfaction, which arose partly from the reflection that she was
gratifying her appetite without expense. She even regarded Emma
with a softened expression, saying: "I forgive you, little gal, for