“You’re just the boy I’m looking for. Here is a quantity of nice food for you and your brothers and sisters.” Quickly the grimy little paw was withdrawn, and with both hands behind him, the boy winked rudely at Betty and said: “Aw, g’wan! Quit yer kiddin’.” “I don’t know what you mean,” said Betty, who couldn’t help laughing at the impudent little fellow. “I’m offering you some good food.” “Good food nothin’!” said the strange child. “Take yer box away, lady; I wouldn’t swap yer me college pin fer it!” Betty had to laugh at this, but since the boy was so indifferent, she didn’t care to give him the lunch anyhow; so she went on to find some one else. “It does seem queer,” she thought, “that there’s nobody about who is just the right one to give this to. There are men working at the road, but I don’t like to offer it to them, they look so—so untidy.” But at last she spied a little girl. Though somewhat gaudily dressed, the child was evidently poor, for her frock was faded and torn. She wore a string of bright beads round her neck, and a big bow on her black hair, and she walked with a mincing step. But she was thin and looked ill nourished, so Betty thought that at last she had found just the right beneficiary. “Where do you live?” she said, by way of opening the conversation, as she paused in front of the little girl. “You ain’t a settlement teacher,” said the child. “Comes a settlement teacher, and I tell my name. But you ain’t one.” “No,” said Betty, smiling kindly, “I’m not a settlement teacher, but I want to give you something—something very nice.” “What is it nice you wants fer to give me?” The child did not look receptively inclined, but Betty held out the big box toward her and said: “It’s this box of lovely luncheon, fried chicken and little pies! Take it home to your mama.” The girl turned on Betty like a little fury. Her black eyes snapped, and her whole little body shook with indignation as she cried: “Think shame how you says! My mama wouldn’t let me to take whole bunches of lunch from a lady! It ain’t for ladies to give lunches off on the street!” With a flirt of her shabby little skirts, the child turned her back on Betty and walked haughtily away. It was Betty’s first experience with that peculiar type of dignity and self-respect, and she was bewildered at the sudden fury of the indignant child. But the box was still to be disposed of, and Betty looked around for another opportunity. She was tempted to throw it away, but the thought of Ellen’s dainty morsels being wasted was so disappointing that she resolved to try once more anyhow. “I didn’t think it was so hard to give food away in town,” she reflected, smiling grimly at her predicament. “Oh, I do believe it’s going to rain!”