“And you, little Missie,” said Mr. Dear to Priscilla, “you lift down that jar at the end of the second row, and you’ll find something nice to go on with while we’re busy.”
Priscilla found the jar and opened it, and it was full of chocolates with “hundreds and thousands” sprinkled on the top.
When Miss Dear returned with the hammer and the very little servant, Mr. Dear began to wrench up the board. It was very rotten, and came away easily, leaving plenty of room for his hand to grope about. Mr. Dear dipped into the black dust several times, and placed a heap on the floor each time, until the place was empty.
“Now,” he said, “what shall we find?” And, placing the two candles close to the heap of dirt, he began to examine it, while Priscilla’s father and Priscilla and Miss Dear and the very little servant all crouched down on the floor and looked on. Priscilla’s heart beat like a motor-car standing still.
“Bless my soul,” said Mr. Dear suddenly, “if here isn’t half a sovereign?”
“Fancy that!” said Miss Dear.
“Yes,” said Priscilla’s father, “and here’s a halfpenny.”
“Well, I never!” said Miss Dear.
“Pins,” said Mr. Dear, “by the hundred.”
“And here’s a pencil,” said Priscilla’s father.