d, starting up with a jerk and rubbing his eyes;
"and I have got the tea and things; and the kettle is boiling; but I
thought I wouldn't set the tea to draw until you woke up, for fear it
should be flat."

"Come here, my child," said Hannah, in a kindly voice, for you see the
woman had had a good sleep and had awakened much refreshed, with calmer
nerves and consequently better temper.

"Come to me, Ishmael," repeated Hannah; for the boy had delayed obeying
long enough to set the tea to draw, and cut a slice of bread and set it
down to toast.

When Ishmael went to her she raised herself up, took his thin face
between her hands and gazed tenderly into it, saying:

"I was cross to you, my poor lad, this morning; but, oh, Ishmael, I felt
so badly I was not myself."

"I know that, Aunt Hannah; because when you are well you are always good
to me; but let me run and turn your toast now, or it will burn; I will
come back to you directly." And the practical little fellow flew off to
the fireplace, turned the bread and flew back to Hannah.

"But where did you get the tea, my child?" she inquired.

Ishmael told her all about it in a few words.

"And so you walked all the way back again to Baymouth, tired and hungry
as you were; and you sold your precious book, much as you loved it, all
to get tea for me! Oh, my boy, my boy, how unjust I have been to you!
But I am so glad Mr. Middleton bought it back and gave it to you again!
And the pocketbook was his! and you gave it to him and would not take
any reward for finding it! That was right, Ishmael; that was right! And
it seems to me that every good thing you have ever got in this world has
come through your own right doing," was the comment of Hannah upon all
this.

"Well, aunt, now the tea is drawn and the toast is ready, let me fix it
on the stand for you," said Ishmael, hurrying off to perform this duty.

That evening Hannah enjoyed her tea and dry toast only as a woman long
debarred from these feminine necessaries could enjoy them.

When Ishmael also had had his supper and had cleared away the tea
service, he took down his book, lighted his little bit of candle,
and--as his aunt was in a benignant humor, he went to her for sympathy
in his studies--saying:

"Now, aunt, don't mope and pine any more! George Washington didn't, even
when the army was at Valley Forge and the snow was so deep and the
soldiers were barefooted! Let me read you something out of my book to
amu