big label in it
marked "1st Prize," and next to it came Richard's moss-tray, with the
Hair-moss, and the Pincushion-moss, and the Scale-mosses, and a lot of
others with names of our own, and it was marked "2nd Prize." And I
gripped one of Sandy's arms just as Richard seized the other, and we
both cried, "Perronet is paid for!"

* * * * *

There was two-and-sixpence over. We never had such a feast! It was a
picnic tea, and we had it in Our Field. I thought Sandy and Perronet
would have died of cake, but they were none the worse.

We were very much frightened at first when the old gentleman invited
himself; but he would come, and he brought a lot of nuts, and he did
get inside the oak, though it is really too small for him.

I don't think there ever was anybody so kind. If he were not a man, I
should really and truly believe in Sandy's fairy godmother.

Of course I don't really believe in fairies. I am not so young as
that. And I know that Our Field does not exactly belong to us.

I wonder to whom it does belong? Richard says he believes it belongs
to the gentleman who lives at the big red house among the trees. But
he must be wrong; for we see that gentleman at church every Sunday,
but we never saw him in Our Field.

And I don't believe anybody could have such a field of their very own,
and never come to see it, from one end of Summer to the other.

MADAM LIBERALITY.

"Like little body with a mighty heart."

_King Henry V., Act 2._

PART I.

It was not her real name: it was given to her by her brothers and
sister. People with very marked qualities of character do sometimes
get such distinctive titles, to rectify the indefiniteness of those
they inherit and those they receive in baptism. The ruling peculiarity
of a character is apt to show itself early in life, and it showed
itself in Madam Liberality when she was a little child.

Plum-cakes were not plentiful in her home when Madam Liberality was
young, and such as there were, were of the "wholesome" kind--plenty of
bread-stuff, and the currants and raisins at a respectful distance
from each other. But few as the plums were, she seldom ate them. She
picked them out very carefully, and put them into a box, which was
hidden under her pinafore.

When we grown-up people were children, and plum-cake and plum-pudding
tasted very much nicer than they do now, we also picked out the plums.
Some of us ate them