"Take it to Miss Beatrice for the poor little girl she told about."

"No, sir. Going to get some candy. Five cents don't get much, though.
Not the best kind. That costs money."

Harlis put his hand in his pocket and quickly pulled it out. But the
action did not escape Willis' sharp eyes.

"You got any?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Let's see. Oh, a nickel! Thought maybe it was just a penny. What a
lot ten cents would get. What kind do you like best?"

"I like chocolate best."

"Do you? Why, so do I. Say we get some?"

"I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things
on Sunday."

"She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either."

When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost
ready to cry. "Did you forget your money?" said Miss Beatrice,
pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable.

"Yes'm," answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was
saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him.