These delectable joys of life being spread upon the table, immediately under Tottie's nose, and Tottie's attention being divided between them and their lawful owner, Ben Sparrow, it will not be difficult to see which of the two possessed the greater charms for her. A rapid glance at Ben Sparrow's face, a lingering gaze upon fruit and spice, another rapid glance (with a slight reproach in it this time) at Ben Sparrow's face, and, finding no benevolent intention there, a more fixed and longing gaze upon the treasures of the earth--thus it goes without a word on either side (the thoughts of each being so intensely engrossing), and thus it might have continued for goodness knows how long, but that Ben Sparrow, with a cheery laugh, taps Tottie's cheek with his forefinger, and cries, in a tone of satisfaction, 'Now, I've got it!' (Tottie wishes _she_ had.) 'Now, I've got it,' cries the old man again; 'all complete.' Tottie shifts restlessly in her high chair. 'And Tottie shall see me make it,' says Ben, with beaming face, rubbing his hands, and shifting the fruit and the spice about much the same as if they form pieces of a puzzle, and he has found the key to it. 'Especially,' adds Ben, 'as Tottie will sit still, and won't touch.' 'No, I never!' exclaims Tottie. This is Tottie's oath, which she is much given to swearing when her honour is called into question. Tottie's 'No, I never!' is in her estimation worth a volume of affidavits, but it is much to be feared that her sense of moral obligation is not of a high order. 'And as Tottie's a good little girl----' 'Tottie's a dood little girl!' There is no expression of doubt in the nods of the head with which Tottie strengthens this declaration. 'And'll sit still, she _shall_ see me make it.' The good old fellow laughs. He does not seem to realise how difficult is the task he has set Tottie. To sit still, with these treasures in view! Here an agonising incident occurs. A small piece of candied sugar has become detached from one of the halves of lemon-peel, and Ben Sparrow, with an air of abstraction, picks it up, and puts it--in his own mouth! Tottie watches him as he moves it about with his tongue, and her own waters as the sweet dissolves in her imagination. She knows the process as well as Ben, and appreciates it more, and she sighs when the candy is finally disposed of. 'You see, Tottie,' says Ben, taking her into his confidence, 'business is very slack, and Christmas is coming, Tottie.' Tottie gives a nod of acquiescence. [Illustration] 'So I think to myself--another nod from Tottie; she also is thinking to herself--'if I can put some thing in the window that'll make the people look at the figs----' Here Tottie introduces an artful piece of diplomacy. 'Tottie can spell fig,' she says, and proceeds to do it smilingly--'F-I-G, fig.' But Ben, intent upon his scheme, does not see the point of Tottie's interruption, and proceeds: