sometimes get such distinctive titles to rectify the indefiniteness
of those they inherit and those they receive in baptism. The
ruling peculiarity of a character is apt to show itself early in
life, and it showed itself in Madam Liberality when she was a
little child.

Plum-cakes were not plentiful in her home when Madam Liberality was
young, and, such as there were, were of the "wholesome"
kind--plenty of breadstuff, and the currants and raisins at a
respectful distance from each other. But, few as the plums were,
she seldom ate them. She picked them out very carefully, and put
them into a box, which was hidden under her pinafore.

When we grown-up people were children, and plum-cake and
plum-pudding tasted very much nicer than they do now, we also
picked out the plums. Some of us ate them at once, and had then to
toil slowly through the cake or pudding, and some valiantly
dispatched the plainer portion of the feast at the beginning, and
kept the plums to sweeten the end. Sooner or later we ate them
ourselves, but Madam Liberality kept her plums for other people.

When the vulgar meal was over--that commonplace refreshment
ordained and superintended by the elders of the household--Madame
Liberality would withdraw into a corner, from which she issued
notes of invitation to all the dolls. They were "fancy written" on
curl-papers, and folded into cocked hats.

Then began the real feast. The dolls came and the children with
them. Madam Liberality had no toy tea-sets or dinner-sets, but
there were acorn-cups filled to the brim, and the water tasted