“Well, then,” said Bobbie, fumbling miserably, yet not without hope, in her tightly stuffed pocket, “we wrote down all the things everybody said when they gave us the things, with the people's names, because Mother said we ought to be careful--because--but I wrote down what she said--and you'll see.” But Bobbie could not read the labels just at once. She had to swallow once or twice before she could begin. Mrs. Perks had been crying steadily ever since her husband had opened the wash-house door. Now she caught her breath, choked, and said:-- “Don't you upset yourself, Missy. _I_ know you meant it kind if he doesn't.” “May I read the labels?” said Bobbie, crying on to the slips as she tried to sort them. “Mother's first. It says:-- “'Little Clothes for Mrs. Perks's children.' Mother said, 'I'll find some of Phyllis's things that she's grown out of if you're quite sure Mr. Perks wouldn't be offended and think it's meant for charity. I'd like to do some little thing for him, because he's so kind to you. I can't do much because we're poor ourselves.'” Bobbie paused. “That's all right,” said Perks, “your Ma's a born lady. We'll keep the little frocks, and what not, Nell.” “Then there's the perambulator and the gooseberries, and the sweets,” said Bobbie, “they're from Mrs. Ransome. She said: 'I dare say Mr. Perks's children would like the sweets. And the perambulator was got for my Emmie's first--it didn't live but six months, and she's never had but that one. I'd like Mrs. Perks to have it. It would be a help with her fine boy. I'd have given it before if I'd been sure she'd accept of it from me.' She told me to tell you,” Bobbie added, “that it was her Emmie's little one's pram.” “I can't send that pram back, Bert,” said Mrs Perks, firmly, “and I won't. So don't you ask me--” “I'm not a-asking anything,” said Perks, gruffly. “Then the shovel,” said Bobbie. “Mr. James made it for you himself. And he said--where is it? Oh, yes, here! He said, 'You tell Mr. Perks it's a pleasure to make a little trifle for a man as is so much respected,' and then he said he wished he could shoe your children and his own children, like they do the horses, because, well, he knew what shoe leather was.” “James is a good enough chap,” said Perks. “Then the honey,” said Bobbie, in haste, “and the boot-laces. HE said he respected a man that paid his way--and the butcher said the same. And the old turnpike woman said many was the time you'd lent her a hand with her garden when you were a lad--and things like that came home to roost--I don't know what she meant. And everybody who gave anything said they liked you, and it was a very good idea of ours; and nobody said anything about charity or anything horrid like that. And the old gentleman gave Peter a gold pound for you, and said you were a man who knew your work. And I thought you'd LOVE to know how fond people are of you, and I never was so unhappy in my life. Good-bye. I hope you'll forgive us some day--”