The little pile of bills and silver, representing the month's wages which she had urged upon poor Jane, seemed to accuse her solemnly. She put it hastily out of sight, glad of her child's insistent demands for attention. The boy climbed upon her knee and pillowed his head comfortably upon her breast. "Jane cwied, muzzer," he remarked presently. "Yes, dear," said Mrs. Belknap nervously. "Would you like mother to tell you about the three little pigs?" "Uh-huh; tell me 'bout 'e' free 'ittle pigs. Jane cwied, muzzer!" "Yes, dear. Now listen: Once upon a time there was a nice, kind pig mamma, and she had three dear, little----" "Muzzer, if I--if I div Jane my fwannel el'phunt, would she--would she 'top cwi'in? I like my Jane, muzzer!" "Poor little sweetheart!" exclaimed Mrs. Belknap, with a gratifying sense of indignation against Jane welling up warm within her. "Never mind about Jane, darling; listen to mother while she tells you about the three dear little pigs. One was a little white pig, with pink eyes and a pink nose and the cunningest little curly tail." "Was his 'ittle curly tail _pink_, muzzer?" "Yes, dear; it was all _pink_, and----" "_No!_" objected her son strongly; "his 'ittle curly tail was--it was-- _Tell_ me, muzzer!" "It was--pinky white, a delicate, peach blossom sort of color," hazarded Mrs. Belknap. "Now be quiet, dear, and listen. The second little pig was spotted, white and----" "If I div Jane my _wed bwocks_, would she 'top cwi'in, muzzer?" "White and brown," went on his mother desperately. "Now you _must_ listen, Buster, or mother cannot tell you the story. The third little pig was black--_all pure black_." "Was his 'ittle curly tail all bwack, muzzer?" "Yes; his little curly tail and all--_pure black_. He was the smallest pig of all; but his mother loved him dearly." "Did he cwi, muzzer?" "No; never; none of them ever cried. They were----" "Jane cwied, muzzer." "They were very good, obedient little pigs. They never interrupted their dear mother when she told them stories. They were----" "I like my Jane," murmured the infant, applying his fists to his eyes, "an'--an' I like my supper. Tell Jane to div me my supper, muzzer!" "Why, you poor little darling! Of course you must be hungry! Mother will give you your supper right away. Come, dear!" Mrs. Belknap arose with a sigh of relief, and made her way to the kitchen. "Mary," she began, "I will give Buster his supper now; you may--" She stopped short in horrified dismay. Miss MacGrotty was lolling against the table, a saucepan grasped negligently in one hand, while its contents drizzled slowly down the broad expanse of her aproned front into a puddle on the floor. "Why, _Mary_!" cried her mistress, "you are spilling that gravy all over yourself; do be careful!"