"But we'd give half our supper to them," argued Billy.
Miss Hester shook her head sadly. "I couldn't allow that, Billy, for you children do not have more than you ought as it is."
"Sho!" exclaimed Billy, "We have a heap more than we used to have, and we got 'long then. Why, Aunt Hester, two years ago we'd have thought ourselves regular swells if we'd had three meals a day."
But Miss Hester was obdurate, though she finally consented to allow the children to share their meals with the little mother until her babies were big enough to give away, Billy declaring that there were plenty of the boys who would be glad to have one of the puppies.
So, after supper, they all went out to the wood-shed, Billy and Ruth each bearing a pan of porridge and milk, for each had so insisted upon the right to feed the dog, that Miss Hester was obliged to hunt up two old pans into which was poured strictly half of their supper. This was eagerly eaten by their small pensioner who seemed half-starved.
"Poor little thing," said Miss Hester, wistfully. "I really wish we could keep her, but how could we feed her when we eat up everything so clean that we have no scraps."
"Oh, if I could only make buttonholes," said Ruth fervently, "I'd make enough to buy her all she needed."
Yet a way was provided for the entire family of dogs, for the next day Billy came flying home from school, a pack of boys at his heels. These were escorted to the wood-shed and therefrom came a great clamor of voices.
Ruth hovered on the outskirts eager for the first news.
After a while, the boys filed out all talking at once. As they went out the gate, they shouted back, "We'll be sure to be on hand to-night, Billy."