anyway; but of course they didn't say that right out in so many words.
But, as I said, they wasn't anything but cheap magazines, anyway.
That's why I want yours, jest to get the addressin's of, I mean.
THEY'RE first-class magazines, an' they'll pay me a good price, I'm
sure. They'll have to, to get 'em! Why, Mis' McGuire, I've got to have
the money. There ain't nobody but me TO get it. An' you don't s'pose
we're goin' to let that boy stay blind all his life, do you, jest for
the want of a little money?"

'"A little money'! It'll cost a lot of money, an' you know it, Susan
Betts," cried Mrs. McGuire, stirred into sudden speech. "An' the idea
of you tryin' to EARN it writin' poetry. For that matter, the idea of
your earnin' it, anyway, even if you took your wages."

"Oh, I'd take my wages in a minute, if--" Susan stopped short. Her
face had grown suddenly red. "That is, I--I think I'd rather take the
poetry money, anyway," she finished lamely.

But Mrs. McGuire was not to be so easily deceived.

"Poetry money, indeed!" she scoffed sternly. "Susan Betts, do you know
what I believe? I believe you don't GET any wages. I don't believe
that man pays you a red cent from one week's end to the other. Now
does he? You don't dare to answer!"

Susan drew herself up haughtily. But her face was still very red.

"Certainly I dare to answer, Mis' McGuire, but I don't care to. What
Mr. Burton pays me discerns him an' me an' I don't care to discourse
it in public. If you'll kindly lend me them magazines I asked you for