"I should think you'd be ashamed of yourselves," said a stout woman, addressing both little girls.
"I didn't take the penny," said Rose, resenting the imputation; "I wouldn't steal for anything."
"She wanted me to take it," said Fanny, maliciously, "so that I could buy some candy for her."
"That's a story," said Rose, indignantly; "I didn't know you meant to do it, till I saw you slip it into your pocket."
"I've no doubt one's as bad as the other," said the woman, with commendable impartiality.
"Go 'way," said the tambourine girl; "you steal some more penny."
"Come away, Fanny," said Rose; "I'm ashamed to stay here any longer, and I should think you would be."
As circumstances made the neighborhood of the musicians rather unpleasant, Fanny condescended to adopt the suggestion of her companion.
"I guess I'll go home," she said. "I'm hungry, and ma'll give me some gingerbread. She won't give you any, for you're a bad girl."
"What are you?" retorted Rose.