‘Sam,’ said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day, ‘Johnny’s been putting threepence a week into the school club. He’s got as much as nine shillings in, and he’s to have twopence a shilling added to it if we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the nine shillings out if we like. Come home in time to go with us to the school to-night.’ ‘Ay, ay!’ said Sam, heartily, ‘I’ll go with Johnny to get his little fortune.’ It was quite dark in the evening when the three started off for the school where the weekly pence were paid in. But as they locked their parlour-door and turned into the street, they saw a girl about Johnny’s age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her head, standing on the outer door-sill, shivering and crying, as she looked at the dismal night, with flakes of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her well; she was the little girl belonging to the tenant of the attic two floors above them. Ann had often given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny to take to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her into their parlour, because she was too dirty and ragged. Now, as the child stood crying and shivering on the door-step, her heart smote her for her want of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her gently. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘Father says I must go and beg,’ she answered, crying more bitterly, ‘and I’m frightened, and it’s so bitter cold. But we must pay our rent, he says, or be turned out, and he doesn’t know where to go to, and is very ill, coughin’ ever so. We owe for three weeks now, that’s nine shillings, and I don’t know where I’m to beg for nine shillings.’ ‘There’s all the coppers I’ve got,’ said Sam putting three or four pence in her hand, and hurrying on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the girl pattered after them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann did not speak again till they reached the school, but once or twice she looked back and saw the little ragged figure following them. There was no one in the school room except themselves and the gentleman who was ready to receive their payment and give them the ticket for buying clothes to the value of ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could write out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin, care-worn little face peering in through the window. ‘Oh, Sam,’ she cried, ‘we don’t want it so badly after all, and I think if it belonged to Him, Jesus Christ, he would give it to the poor man up in the attic to pay his rent with. Don’t you think he would?’ ‘But it’s Johnny’s little fortune,’ said Sam, ‘and we should lose one and sixpence if we took it out for that.’ ‘Johnny ’ud be glad to give it to poor little Bell?’ asked Ann, with her hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘Yes, mother, for little Bell,’ he said readily.