"You stop right there till I get a light," said the woman, letting
go the child's hand when they reached the middle of the room. "Don't
ye budge now."

Too much frightened to speak, or even cry, 'Toinette did as she was
bid, and stood perfectly still until the old woman had found a
match, and, drawing it across the rusty stove, lighted a tallow
candle, and stuck it into the mouth of a junk-bottle. This she set
upon the table; and, sinking into a chair beside it, stretched out a
skinny hand, and, seizing 'Toinette by the arm, dragged her close to
her.

"Yes, you kin let me have that pooty shawl, little gal, cause--Eh,
what fine clo'es we've got on!" exclaimed the hag, as, pulling off
the shawl 'Toinette had again wrapped about her, she examined her
dress attentively for a moment, and then, fixing her eyes sternly
upon the child, continued angrily,--

"Now look at here, young un. Them ain't your clo'es; you know they
ain't. You stole 'em."

"Stealed my clothes!" exclaimed 'Toinette in great indignation.
"Why, no, I didn't. Mamma gave them to me, and Susan sewed them."

"No sech a thing, you young liar!" returned the old woman, shaking
her roughly by one arm. "You stole 'em; and I'm a-going to take 'em
off, and give you back your own, or some jist like 'em. Then I'll
carry these fine fixings to the one they b'long to. Come, now, no
blubbering. Strip off, I tell yer."