"Oh! Granny, I wish you'd been with me yesterday, and seen the Christmas presents which Mrs. Poler has given her nieces! There was a doll, dressed just like a lady, and the prettiest little set of tea-things." "What do I care about hearing of such trash," cried old Janet. "Mrs. Poler had better spend her money on buying tea for them as wants it, than on giving children tea-cups no bigger than filberts." Annie was afraid to remind her Granny how kind Mrs. Poler had been in filling her own little apron with apples to carry home to old Janet, or to mention the hundredweight of coals which the lady had sent before Christmas. Annie only remarked, "I suppose that Mrs. Poler gives toys to her nieces because she loves them so much." "Giving toys when one has lots of money to buy them with is no great proof of love," cried the old woman. "When these little ladies had the smallpox, Mrs. Poler never so much as went near them, for fear of catching it." "Perhaps Mrs. Poler knew that she could not nurse them; not every one can nurse as you do, Granny," said the child. "What care you took of Joe when he had that bad fall down an area, and broke his poor leg, the very first month that he went into service in London." "Ah! Poor fellow, he slipped on the steps one cold, frosty day; and his master sent him all the way here to be nursed, for he knew that no one would look after him like his old Granny. Didn't I sit up three nights with my boy when the pain made the fever run high; and didn't I tear up my own handkerchiefs into bandages for his leg, and half starve myself to scrape up money to pay the doctor?" "Joe will never forget all you did," said Annie. "I hope that he'll give a proof now that he does not," began Janet, when she caught a sight through the window of some one coming up to the door. "Here's the postman at last!" she exclaimed, starting up from her seat in such a hurry that she knocked over her basket, and sent a good many of her nuts flying in every direction over her cottage floor. Annie flew to the door, the postman had no need to knock. "Here's the letter—the letter from Joe!" cried the little girl, joyfully, as she returned with the note. "I was sure, quite sure, that he would write soon!" "I hope that he has done something more than merely write," said Janet, looking very anxious, with mingled hope and fear in her face as she broke open her grandson's letter. When she had taken out the written sheet, instead of reading it, she shook it to see if any money-order would drop out, then looked into the empty envelope, and muttered in a tone of great disappointment, "I made sure of one pound at least! Did I not write to him that the rent must be paid to-morrow, or that we should both be turned out of doors." "Won't you read Joe's letter, dear Granny?" asked Annie; she was very anxious to hear it. "You read it to me, child, my eyes are getting dim with old age," said the old woman, giving her the note.