"I'm glad of that, dearie; for I haven't been able to get my little girl anything but a rosy apple. Poor bird! Give it some of your warm bread and milk."
19. "Why, mother, what a big bowlful! I'm afraid you gave me all the milk," said Tilly, smiling over the nice, steaming supper that stood ready for her.
"I've had plenty, dear. Sit down and dry your wet feet, and put the bird in my basket on this warm flannel."
20. Tilly peeped into the closet and saw nothing there but dry bread.
"Mother's given me all the milk, and is going without her tea 'cause she knows I'm hungry. Now I'll surprise her, and she shall have a good supper, too. She is going to split wood, and I'll fix it while she's gone."
21. So Tilly put down the old teapot, carefully poured out a part of the milk, and from her pocket produced a great, plummy bun that one of the school children had given her and she had saved for her mother. A slice of the dry bread was nicely toasted, and the bit of butter set by for her put on it. When her mother came in, there was the table drawn up in a warm place, a hot cup of tea ready, and Tilly and birdie waiting for her.
22. Such a poor little supper, and yet such a happy one; for love, charity, and contentment were guests there, and that Christmas eve was a blither one than that up at the great house, where lights shone, fires blazed, a great tree glittered, and music sounded, as the children danced and played.
23. "We must go to bed early, for we've only wood enough to last over to-morrow. I shall be paid for my work the day after, and then we can get some," said Tilly's mother, as they sat by the fire.
24. "If my bird was only a fairy bird, and would give us three wishes, how nice it would be! Poor dear, he can't give me anything; but it's no matter," answered Tilly, looking at the robin, which lay in the basket with his head under his wing, a mere little feathery bunch.