"Betther!" said Danny.
"So you think I'm right to save for skates, do you, Danny?"
"Do I think so? I do. Why, Rosie dear, as soon as people find out that ye're savin' in earnest, they'll be givin' ye many an odd penny here and there. Let me see now.... Go to the panthry, Rosie, and on the third shelf from the top ye'll see a cup turned upside down, and under the cup—well, I dunno what's under the cup."
Rosie went to the pantry and under the cup found two nice brown pennies. "Thanks, Danny. But do you think Mis' Agin would want me to take them?"
"Mary? Why, Mary'd be givin' ye a nickel—she's that proud of you for chin-chopperin' the young Schnitzer. He stones her cat, but if he does it again she'll be warnin' him that you'll take after him. Ha, ha, that'll stop him if anything will!"
CHAPTER IV
A LITTLE SAVINGS ACCOUNT
What Danny said proved right. As soon as Rosie's immediate family and friends heard of the project, they gave her every encouragement. Little Jack lent her his last Christmas money-box—one of those tin banks whose opening is supposed to be burglarproof against the seducing attractions of all hatpins and buttonhooks except those employed by its rightful owner—and Mrs. O'Brien suggested at once that the old wardrobe upstairs would be the place of greatest safety for the bank.
"You can get into it whenever you like, Rosie dear, for you know yourself where the key's to be found."
It might be argued that every one else in the family knew where the key was to be found, for it was an open secret that its hiding-place was under the foot of the washstand. Nevertheless, it was an accepted tradition that anything in the wardrobe was under lock and key and therefore safe. So, with unbounded confidence, Rosie slipped her first week's wages into Jack's money-box and carefully locked the old wardrobe.