ere wholly
what they should be? Since she could remember she had known no other
people, and if all were not good as she had fancied them, at least all
were good to her. With all her honest loyal heart she loved them, and
saw virtues in them which others, maybe, would not have seen. With a
gesture of perplexity, she tossed her head and clasped her hands,
demanding:

"An' what's poor? Why, I've heard you say that we're poor, too, lots o'
times. But is any of us beggars? No, siree. Is any of us thievers? No,
Grandpa Beck, not a one. An' if some is ragged or dirty, that's 'cause
they don't have clothes an' spigots handy, an' some's afraid o' takin'
cold, like the tailor man. Some of us lives two er three families in a
room, but--but that's them. Me an' you don't. We have a hull house. Why,
me an' you is sort of rich, seems if, and----It's that big shiny-hatted
man makes you talk so queer, grandpa darlin', an' I hate him. I wish
he'd stayed to his house an' not come near the Lane."

"No, no, mate, hate nobody, nobody. He meant it kind. He didn't know how
kindness might hurt us, deary. He is Colonel Bonnicastle, who owned the
ship I mastered, an' many another that sails the sea this day. He's got
a lot to do with the 'Harbor' an' never dreamed how't we'd known about
it long ago. A good ship it was an' many a voyage she made, with me
layin' dollars away out of my wage, till the sudden blindness struck me
an' I crept down here where nobody knew me to get over it. That's a long
while since, deary, and the dollars have gone, I always hopin' to get
sight again and believin' I'd done a fine thing for my orphan
grandchild, keepin' so snug a place over her head. So far, I've paid the
rent reg'lar, and we've had our rations, too. Now, mate, fetch me the
bag and count what's in it."

The little canvas bag which Glory took from the tiny wall-cupboard
seemed very light and empty, and when she had untied the string and held
it upside down not a coin fell from it. The old man listened for the
clink of silver but there was none to hear and he sighed deeply as he
asked, "Empty, Glory?"

"Empty, grandpa. Never mind, we'll soon put somethin' back in it. You
must get your throat cleared and go out early an' sing your loudest.
I'll get Toni to let me have a fifty-bagger, an' I'll sell every single
one. You might make as much as a hull quarter, you might, an' me--I'll
have a nickel. A nickel buys lots o' meal, an' we can do without milk on
o