"You'd oughtn't to think you have to help everybody you come 'cross in
the world, gal," advised Uncle Jabez, finally picking up the cash-box to
retire to his room. "Every tub ought to stand on its own bottom, as I've
allus told ye."

When he was gone Aunt Alvirah shook her head sadly.

"Ain't much brotherhood of man in Jabez Potter's idees of life," she
said. "He says nobody ever helped him get up in the world, so why should
he help others?"

"Of all things!" exclaimed Ruth, with some warmth. "I wonder what he
would have done all these years without you to make a home for him
here!"

"Tut, tut!" objected the old woman. "'Tain't me that's done for him. I
was a poor lone creeter in the poorhouse when Jabez Potter came and took
me out. I know that deep down in his old heart there's a flame of
charity. Who should know it better?"

"Oh, dear!" cried Ruth. "He keeps it wonderfully well hidden--that
flame. He certainly does."

Jennie laughed. "Well, why shouldn't he be cautious? See how many times
you have been charitable, Ruth, and seen no gratitude in return."

"Well!" gasped the girl of the Red Mill, in disgust, "is _that_ what we
are to be charitable for? For shame!"