"I should have thought," observed fat Lubin, who had kept at her side, "that you, of all people in the world, would have hated this silly racing, and disliked to see any one go at so desperate a pace."
"Why should I dislike it?" asked the lame child; "I would go at a great pace too, if I only were able."
"But when you are lame, does it not vex you to be so distanced by others?"
Nelly hesitated a little before she replied, "Sometimes, I own, it does vex me a little; but then I am comforted when I think that as long as I do my best I should be only glad that others can do better."
Lubin and Nelly came up with their brother and sister at the cottage of Mrs. Sewing; for Dick, who was in a merry mood, had stopped there to help the old dame to transplant a fine slip of Fancy-work, and Matty was standing laughing beside him.
"See how well he does it!" she cried.
"I wonder that he is not ashamed to use his fingers like a girl!" exclaimed Lubin, who was himself remarkably clumsy.
Mrs. Sewing turned round with a smile and a courtesy.
"Better the fingers thus employing
Than in fighting, fidgeting, or destroying,"
observed she.