J. J. Bell

“ The youngest got tired, and demanded to be carried, and eventually the painter, who had never in his life held a child, picked him up awkwardly, and bore him along with nervous care, pulling faces unconsciously and perspiring profusely. All the way Jessie clutched his jacket with one hand, while with the other she warmed her precious piece of silver. Evidently she already regarded the giver no less than the gift as her especial property.
Mr. Redhorn entered the village with acute misgivings. ”

“ Such a slump is ill to be borne by people older than Jessie; besides, even the older people prefer to handle their own—for a time, at least—before they give any of it away.
Surreptitiously she gave the painter's sleeve a timid tug.
That settled it. Mr. Redhorn pulled himself together—and his purse from his pocket. A general sigh went up as the small coin passed into Jessie's little hand. "It's hers to dae what she likes wi'," he said; "but if the ithers like to come to the shop, they'll each get a pennyworth o' sweeties." ”

“ The elder boy was enjoying a lump of putty as big as his head, and the younger, having lately removed the pendulum from the eight-day clock, was gazing fascinated at the venerable thing's crazy performance. ”