“O, Frank and I want some more,” said Kate.
“Your mother gave me orders, Miss Kate, and I’m not to give Master Frank anything.”
“Very well; give me some, then.”
Kate carried the cakes to the table, prepared them for eating, and then conveyed them on the broom handle to Frank, who received them gladly, not knowing that Kate had made one more little sacrifice—and more than a sacrifice—for his sake.
Chapter IX.
Kate Hallock was drawing near to Mrs. Dobson’s house in the lane. “Dear grandma!” she called, “I’m just perishing with hunger! I’m starved nearly to death! I’ve had no breakfast yet! Will you give me a piece of your rye bread and butter?”
The dear old lady’s curls were bound about with a muslin kerchief, for it was her morning for churning, and the stone jar, with its little wooden dasher, was waiting her hands when Kate’s plaint broke upon her hearing.
“Hungry! starving! no breakfast! What does it mean, Kittie Clover?”
“It means,” said Kate, “that I gave my breakfast to a poor fellow who had none, or next to none, nothing but plain bread.”