were just entering the dining room.

"Well," Zay calmly announced, "I 'cluded not to go till after dinner."

"Is that so?" quietly replied her mother. "But you might better have
gone on. Any little girl who wants to leave a nice home because she
can't have her own way, needn't look for any dinner here! I expected you
to dine on butter crackers and bears."

"I like chicken, I do," said proud little Zay with appealing eyes, but
no tears; "and then I lost all my pennies!"

In vain did the tender hearted grandma pull mamma's dress,--mamma
entered the dining room and shut the door; and up came poor Zay to the
room where I awaited my dinner, for she had seen a tray borne hither.
But she did not know that her mamma's parting injunction had been, "you
must not give her anything! I must--indeed, I _wish_ to teach my child a
lesson."

Little sun-hat and empty porte-monnaie put away, quietly she seated
herself on the sofa opposite me, with two little fat feet hanging
dangling down. Dignity kept her silent, and amusement mingled with pity
made me so.

This state of things lasted for some moments, while the dainties were
diminishing from my plate. Every mouthful was wistfully watched. At
length with grave old-fashioned face, she asked, "Are you sorry for
beggar chil'en, Aunty?"

"Very sorry indeed," I replied with composure.