up everything, and mamma called us all beggars, I did think I'd got to go round asking for cold vittles, with a big basket, and an old shawl over my head. I said once I'd like that, but I'm afraid I shouldn't, for I can't bear Indian cake and cold potatoes,—that's what the poor children always seem to get,—and I should hate to have Grace and the rest see me scuffing round the back gates."
"My little girl shall never come to that, if I can help it," said Mr. Shaw, holding her close, with a look that made Maud add, as she laid her cheek against his own,—
"But I'd do it, father, if you asked me to, for I truly want to help."
"So do I!" cried Fanny, wondering at the same minute how it would seem to wear turned silks, and clean her gloves.
Tom said nothing, but drew toward him a paper of figures which his father had drawn up, and speedily reduced himself to the verge of distraction by trying to understand them, in his ardent desire to prove his willingness to put his shoulder to the wheel.
"We shall pull through, children, so don't borrow trouble, only be ready for discomforts and annoyances. Put your pride in your pockets, and remember poverty isn't disgraceful, but dishonesty is."
Polly had always loved kind Mr. Shaw, but now she respected him heartily, and felt that she had not done him justice when she sometimes thought that he only cared for making money.
"I shouldn't wonder if this was a good thing for the whole family, though it don't look so. Mrs. Shaw
