“Bring them all over to the little white house, with the morning glories. Open the gate softly, and come round to the back door. Step down here, Kate, and I will tell you.” Kate stepped down, and in the darkness of the stair-case received very particular instructions, which she obeyed implicitly. Then Mrs. Smith returned to the store, took up the heavy basket, and called James. “Run on first, now,” she said, “and keep them all busy about something; take half a dozen apples, and give them each one; then step back and let me into the kitchen. It is sure to be ready and neat as wax. I’ve got matches here; then keep them all busy, and be a little boisterous till I get things ship-shape.” Little James obeyed; and a few moments after burst in upon the mournful silence into which his mother and sisters had fallen, with eyes as bright as stars, and a heap of red apples in his arms. “Didn’t I tell you?” he cried out, pouring the apples into Eva’s lap. “One, two, three, four, five. One a piece, and another to spare. Here, mother, the biggest for you, plump and rosy as Mrs. Smith’s cheek, and smelling luscious. There, Ruthy, darling, I’ll get a knife and peel yours.” With this the artful little rogue ran into the kitchen, unbolted the door, and seizing on a knife, was back again in an instant. “No, no, James, dear! We must not waste good things like that,” said Ruth, holding out her slender hand for the fruit which she regarded with longing eyes. “Put away your knife—I am in a hurry for my apple.” James sprang to her couch, held the apple to her mouth, and laughed aloud as her teeth sunk into its crimson side. “Eva, why don’t you pitch into yours?” he said. “Just watch Ruth, then see how mother is going it.” “I do not need it. These two will keep over.” “Oh, yes! Keep over, of course. Well, just as you like. But I say, let to-morrow take care of itself. ‘Hi diddle diddle, the cat’s in the fiddle, the cow——’ No, that’s all nonsense; the animal couldn’t do it, but I could. There, now, what do people have foot-stools lying about loose for. One step more, and the only gentleman of this family would have been full length at your feet. Mother!” The boy sprung to his mother, and kneeling before her, pulled down the hand she had lifted to her face, and kissed it tenderly. “Oh, mother! I thought nothing could make you cry.” “I am growing childish, James; sickness weakens one so,” answered the woman, who was usually firm as iron. “Besides, gratitude brings tears easy.” “Yes,” said Ruth, thoughtfully; “for rain, there must be some warmth; the cold, bitter days only bring down hail and sleet.” “Tell us,” said the mother, wiping her eyes, “where did you get these?” “From Mrs. Smith, mother. Isn’t she splendid?” “But you did not ask her again?” “Yes, I did; not for them, but to let me work for something to keep us alive; so these apples were handy, you see, and I’m going lots of errands—never you fear!”