once in a great while she lets me look them over. Sometimes, too, we
have them on the table--when it's some special occasion like a birthday
or visitors."

"I don't much like to see the real nice dishes on a table," remarked
Bert. "I'm always afraid that I'll break one of them, and then I know my
mother would feel pretty bad over it."

"You must be careful, my boy. You can't handle nice china as you can
your baseball or your football," said Miss Pompret, with a smile.

"Well, I guess they couldn't treat dishes like baseballs and footballs!"
cried Nan. "Just think of throwing a sugar bowl up into the air or
hitting it with a bat, or kicking a teapot all around the lots!"

"That certainly wouldn't be very nice," said Miss Pompret.

She went over to the closet, unlocked the glass doors, and set some of
the rare pieces out on the lace cover of the dining room table. Bert and
Nan saw that Miss Pompret handled each piece as though it might be
crushed, even in her delicate hands, which were almost as white and thin
as a piece of china.

"This is the wonderful Pompret tableware," went on the old lady. "It has
been in my family over a hundred years. My great-grandfather had it, and
now it has come to me. I have had it a number of years, and I think more
of it than anything else I have. Of course, if I had any little children
I would care for them more than for these dishes," went on Miss Pompret.
"But I'm a lonely old lady, and you neighborhood children are the only
ones I have," and she smiled rather wistfully at Nan and Bert.