In one of the darkest parts of the street there was a little window illuminated by a single ‘dip:’ that ‘dip’ revealed a jumble of sweetmeats, cheap, gaudy toys, and penny picture-books. The eager eyes of a group of children discovered there a palace of wonder and delight, filled with objects of surpassing interest and ambition. There was a wooden sword which young Hodge regarded as more powerful than his father’s spade and pick-axe: there was a gilt gingerbread man with a cocked-hat, which was looked upon with breathless admiration as a correct model of the Prince of Wales in all the splendour of royal attire. There was a brief discussion as to whether the cocked-hat should not have been a gold crown, which was undoubtedly the proper headgear for a prince. This, however, was settled by a mite of a girl, who suggested that the cocked-hat was worn when the Prince went out for a walk, and the crown when he was in the palace. Next in attractive power was a greenish bottle full of brandy-balls; and the children’s teeth watered as they gazed upon it. A Lord Mayor’s dinner must be a small thing compared with that window with its jumble of sweets and toys. ‘Wouldn’t you like to have some of these nice things? How happy we would be if life could be all gilt gingerbread and brandy-balls!’ That was exactly what they had been thinking, and an appalled silence fell upon the little group, as they turned to stare at the wizard who had read their desire through the backs of their heads. But they all knew the kindly face of the gentleman who was looking at them so pleasantly. They did not note the shade of sadness and pity that was in his eyes. The faces of the younger children broadened into smiles of expectation: the elder ones hung their heads a little—shy, doubting, hoping, and vaguely fearing that they had been caught doing something wrong. Mr Beecham patted one of them on the head—a child of about six years. ‘Suppose you had sixpence, Totty, what would you do?’ ‘Buy all the shop.’ ‘And what then?’ ‘Eat um,’ was the prompt and emphatic answer. ‘What! would you not share with your friends?’ Totty looked round at her friends, who were anxious about her next reply. ‘Such a lot of ’em,’ she said with a kind of sulky greediness. ‘Well, sixpence will not buy the whole shop; but I shall give it to your brother, and he must spend it upon something which can be easily divided into equal parts, so that you may all share alike.’