re, _we_ shall be to blame--shall we not?"

"Oh, don't talk socialism or political economy to _me_!" said Aunt
Sarah. "Thank goodness when _I_ went to school young girls did not fill
their heads with such nonsense."

"But when she went to school," Ruth said afterward to Mrs. MacCall,
"girls I am sure learned to be charitable and loving. And that is all
our Tess is, after all."

"Bless her sweet heart!" exclaimed the housekeeper. "She'll never be
hurt by that, it's true. But she does bring awfully queer looking
characters to the hoose, Ruth. There's no gainsaying that."

As the children met these other children at the public school, Ruth
could not see why the Goronofskys and the Maronis and the Tahnjeans, and
even Petunia Blossom's pickaninnies, should not, if they were well
behaved, come occasionally to the old Corner House. Nor did she forbid
her little sisters taking their schoolmates to ride in the basket
phaeton, for the calico pony could easily draw all that could pile into
the vehicle.

The children from Meadow Street, and from the other poorer quarters of
the town, always appeared at the Kenway domicile dressed in their best,
and scrubbed till their faces shone. The parents considered it an honor
for their children to be invited over by Tess and Dot.

Sammy, of course, would have found it much more agreeable to drive alone
with some of the boys than with a lot of the little girls; but he was
very fair about it.

"I can't take you 'nless Tess says so," he said to Iky Goronofsky. "I'm
only let to drive this pony; I don't own him. Tess and Dot have the say
of it."

"And all the kids is sponging on them," grunted Iky, who always had an
eye to the main chance. "You know what I would do if the pony was mine?"

"What would you do, Iky?" asked Sammy.

"I'd nefer let a kid in the cart without I was paid a nickel. Sure! A
nickel a ride! And I would soon make the cost of the harness and the
cart. That's what my father would do too."

Both of which statements were probably true. But the little Corner House
girls had no thought for business. They were bent upon having a good
time and giving their friends pleasure.

The pony was not being abused in any sense. The work was good for him.
But possibly Uncle Bill Sorber had not looked forward to quite such a
busy time for Scalawag when he told him in confidence that he was going
to have an easy time of it at the old Corner House. If Scalawag could
have seen, and bee