uch a calm face, that all
the laughers grew silent from mere surprise.

"You mustn't talk about my father to me," said Gabriel, explaining. Then he
started for home, and the laughing began again, softly.

"It was true," he thought, as he trudged along. Things were getting worse
at home, and sometimes he was hungry, for there was not too much on the
table, and his big brothers fought for their share.

As he neared Mother Lemon's cottage, with its thatched roof and tiny
windows, he saw the old woman, in her short gown, tugging at the
well-sweep. It seemed very hard for her to draw up the heavy bucket.

Instantly Gabriel ran forward.

"Get out of here, now," cried the old woman, in a cracked voice, for she
saw it was one of the school-children, and she was weary of their worrying
tricks.

"Shan't I pull up the bucket for you?" asked Gabriel.

"Ah, I know you. You want to splash me!" returned Mother Lemon, eying him
warily; but the boy put his strong arm to the task, and the dripping bucket
rose from the depths, while the little old woman withdrew to a safer
distance.

"Show me where to put it and I will carry it into the house for you," said
Gabriel.

"Now bless your rosy cheeks, you're an honest lad," said Mother Lemon
gratefully; but she took the precaution to walk behind him all the way,
lest he should still be intending to play her some trick. When, however, he
had entered the low door and filled the kettle and the pans, according to
her directions, she smiled on him, and as she thanked him, she asked him
his name.

"Gabriel," said the lad.

"Ah," she exclaimed, "you are the miser's boy."

Gabriel could not knock Mother Lemon down, so he only hung his head while
his cheeks grew redder.

"It isn't your fault, child, and by the time you are grown you will be
rich. When that time comes, I pray you be kinder to me than your father is,
for he oppresses the poor and makes me pay my last shilling for the rent of
this hovel."

"I would give the cottage to you if it were mine," returned Gabriel,
looking straight into her eyes with his honest gray ones; "but at present I
am poorer than you."

"In that case," said Mother Lemon, "I wish I had something worthy to reward
you for your kindness to me. As I have not, here is a penny that you must
keep to remember me by." And in spite of Gabriel's protestations she took
from her side-pocket a coin.

"I cannot take it from you," protested the boy.

"No one ever gre