"Yes; what do you mean? What is the use of beating about the bush in this way?" remonstrated the Big Gray Pair. "Who did eat the sweetmeat? Say plainly."
"Half of it was eaten by a policeman, and the other half by a rook," replied the Little Blues, in a meek voice.
"Ho, ho!" roared the Gray Stockings, while the White Pair joined in with a shrill giggle. "That beats all! Half by a policeman, and half by a rook! A fine way to dispose of a Christmas sweetmeat! Your boy must be a fool, Little Blues."
"Not a fool at all," said the Blue Pair indignantly. "Now just listen to me. Your girl ate hers up at once, and forgot it. Your boy traded his away; and what has he got? A broken knife, and a harmonica that can't play music. I don't call those worth having. My boy enjoyed his sweetmeat all day. He had more pleasure in giving it away than if he had eaten it ten times over! Besides, he got half a crown for it. An old gentleman slipped it into his pocket because he was pleased with his kind heart. I saw him do it."
"Half a crown!" ejaculated the White Pair, with amazement.
"That is something like," admitted the Big Gray Stockings. "Your boy did the best of the three, I admit."
The Little Blues said no more.
Presently the others fell asleep, but she lay and watched Jan as he rested peacefully beside his brother, with his wonderful treasure—the silver coin—clasped tight in his hand. He smiled in his sleep as though his dreams were pleasant.
"Even if he had no half-crown, still he would have done the best," she whispered to herself at last.
Then the clock struck twelve, and the day after Christmas was begun.