“What ails me?” laughed Flora. “I believe I can’t say what I wanted.”
“Try again, then,” added Sarah.
“Well, Mrs. White—that’s the poor widow’s name—as she is very poor——”
The children all laughed then till their sides ached, and Master Henry had nearly smashed Miss Dolly’s quarters all to pieces, he was so much amused because Flora said the same thing so many times.
“Never mind him,” said Sarah. “Now go on, Flora.”
“Well, I was just going to say that Mrs. White was very poor——”
“You did say that,” roared Henry; and they all laughed again till they were as red as red apples.
“I declare—well then—but people say they don’t see how poor Mrs. White will be able to get through the winter. They say the times are very hard, and that she can’t get any work.”
“But where is that smart son of hers?”
“O, he earns lots of money; but then the poor folks don’t buy so many papers in hard times. He has got lots of brothers and sisters.”