“Righto, little woman; I won’t take him, but he’s prime,” said the butcher, casting a regretful glance at the fat lamb. “But, listen! Let me give something towards that subscription,” and he drew out a handful of silver. “Here, take five bob. I don’t want to know what it’s for. I’m not curious, but I want you to take it because I’m sure it’s a good object.”
“Oh, it is, it is!” cried Eileen, “but I can’t take your money, Mr. Smith. I’d feel too mean.”
“You must. I’ll be hurt if you don’t take it. There you are, real hurt, and I don’t wonder at you not being able to sell the pet; but all the same, I’d ha’ liked to have had him,” he said, as he mounted his horse and cast another regretful glance at the prime lamb. “Good luck to you, my girl!” he shouted as he rode off.
Eileen stood gazing at the five shillings.
“Oh, dear! I’m a great big baby—that’s what I am, and I don’t know how I’m going to tell the others. Supposing I don’t tell them. But I’ll have to; they’ll want to know where I got the five shillings. Supposing I say it was given to me in secret. Oh, no, that would never do! They’d always be asking me about it. Supposing I say I picked it up. Oh! but that would be too mean—I must let them know about the nice butcher. It wouldn’t be fair to him if I didn’t. No, I’ll race up and tell them now—now, while I feel I can. I’ll just take to my heels and run and tell them as soon as I get up there.”
She was as good as her word, and ten minutes later an excited crowd had gathered round a hot, flushed Eileen, who told them hurriedly of the good kind Mr. Smith.
“Ain’t he lovely?” said Doris, admiringly. “He’s a nice kind man, and I’ll pway for him to-night. We’ll all pway for him.”
“Do you mean to say you meant to sell Ronald? I don’t know how ever you could think of such a thing,” cried Eva.
“Oh, well! you see I couldn’t when it came to the time,” said Eileen. “I just tried my best to, and I couldn’t.”
“And I shouldn’t think you could,” said Eva, in tones of finality.