"Indeed, Master Frank, you are always very good to me; and your father and mother too," replied the widow.
"Here are seven dollars. Charles and I wish to give you this sum."
"Seven dollars!" exclaimed the widow; for to a poor woman like her this was a very large sum.
"Charles and I had saved it for the Fourth of July; but we thought how much good it would do you, who have to work so hard, and we determined to make you a present of it."
"May God bless you both!" exclaimed the widow, wiping a tear of gratitude from her eye; "but I cannot think of taking your money."
"But, Mrs. Weston, you must take it."
"And you give up your pleasure for a poor body like me?"
"We give the money to you because it will afford us a greater pleasure than to spend it for fire-crackers and gingerbread."
"How noble and generous! but you wrong yourselves."
"Oh, no, we don't," said Charles; and at that moment he felt happier than if all the gingerbread and fire-crackers in the world had been showered down upon him.