mouths hanging on all sides. It was only after anxious consultation with
an account-book that the half-sovereign was exchanged for silver; thanks
to the clothing-club bag, which looked leaner for the accommodation. In
the three-halfpenny bag (which bulged with pence) some silver was
further solved into copper, and the charity bag was handsomely distended
before the whole lot was consigned once more to the table-drawer.

Any one accustomed to book-keeping must smile at this bag-keeping of
accounts; but the parson's daughter could never "bring her mind" to
keeping the funds apart on paper, and mixing the actual cash. Indeed,
she could never have brought her conscience to it. Unless she had taken
the tenth for "charity" from her dress and pocket-money in coin, and put
it then and there into the charity bag, this self-imposed rule of the
duty of almsgiving would not have been performed to her soul's peace.

The problem which had been exercising her mind that Saturday night was
how to spend what was left of her benevolent fund in a treat for the
children of the neighboring work-house. The fund was low, and this had
decided the matter. The following Wednesday would be her twenty-first
birthday. If the children came to tea with her, the foundation of the
entertainment would, in the natural course of things, be laid in the
Vicarage kitchen. The charity bag would provide the extras of the feast.
Nuts, toys, and the like.

When the parson's daughter locked the drawer of the bandy-legged table,
she did so with the vigor of one who has made up her mind, and set about
the rest of her Saturday night's duties without further delay.

She put out her Sunday clothes, and her Bible and Prayer-book, and
class-book and pencil, on the oak chest at the foot of the bed. She