“Bits of food, is it?” she exclaimed. “Broken bits ye’re offerin’ to me! Well, ye may be takin’ ’em back! Nobody need dole out food to Bridget Molloy! I takes nobody’s charity! I earns me honest livin’! More shame to them as doesn’t!”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you,” cried Betty, greatly distressed at having hurt the old woman’s feelings. “It’s a very nice luncheon that I brought for myself and some friends.”
But Mrs. Molloy would not listen.
“Take it away,” she said; “take yer cold victuals to some one as is too lazy to work for a honest livin’! I asks no charity fer me or mine!”
Greatly chagrined and a little angry, Betty picked up her box and walked away.
It had been an unfortunate occurrence, but surely it would be easy enough to find some one more reasonable than the old newswoman. Before she had gone a block Betty saw a ragged urchin who was, she decided, a worthy case. He was not selling papers; indeed, he was doing nothing, but leaning against a high board fence, digging his bare toes into the dust.
“Poor little thing,” thought Betty; “I’ve no doubt he’s hungry.” Then she said:
“Good morning, little boy. Are you one of a large family?”
The boy looked suspiciously at Betty, then, in a whining voice, replied:
“Ten brudders an’ ten sisters ma’am; an’ me fadder is sick, an’ me mudder is out o’ work.”