The children went up to the very top tenement of the house, and stopped a moment before opening the door.
“Give her the cakes before you tell her about the dog, Maysie,” said Johnny in a loud whisper.
“Of course I shall,” replied Maysie, shrewdly. “Don’t I know she will be more likely to give in after she sees the beautiful cakes?”
They found the table set for the simple supper, and their mother busily sewing. The father of the family worked in a machine-shop, and in busy seasons the work went on by night as well as by day; so the children saw little of their father, who, when he worked nights, was obliged to sleep part of the day.
The mother looked up as the children entered the room. Care and hard work had left their impress on her face, for it was thin and worn, but it brightened as her eyes fell on the faces of the happy children.
“I was afraid that something had happened to you,” said the mother. “What kept you so long?”
“We couldn’t find the house at first,” said Hannah; “and when we did find it, they made us wait until the lady looked at the work to see if it suited. She says she shall have some more for you in a few days.”
“And we stopped to look in at the windows of a fine shop where they sell all kinds of lovely cakes, and a beautiful, kind gentleman asked me would I like some, and I said I would, and he went inside and bought me a great bag full of the most beautiful ones you ever saw, and we brought one of each kind home to you, Mother dear,” said Maysie, putting the package of cakes in her mother’s lap.
“I hope you didn’t ask him for any?” said Mother.