Margaret Sidney

“ Pepper, winding up hers carefully, as she spoke, on an old spool. “Take care, Polly, you broke that; thread's dear now.”
“I couldn't help it,” said Polly, vexedly; “it snapped; everything's dear now, it seems to me! I wish we could have—oh! ever an' ever so many candles; as many as we wanted. I'd light 'em all, so there! and have it light here one night, anyway!”
“Yes, and go dark all the rest of the year, like as anyway,” observed Mrs. Pepper, stopping to untie a knot. “Folks who do so never have any candles,” she added, sententiously.
“How many'd you have, Polly?” ”

“ Pepper; “didn't you say you better keep them, child?”
“'Twasn't potatoes—at all,” said Polly, with a little gasp; “'twas—dear me! here's Ben!” For the door opened, and Phronsie, with a scream of delight, bounded into Ben's arms.
“It's just jolly,” said Ben, coming in, his chubby face all aglow, and his big blue eyes shining so honest and true; “it's just jolly to get home! supper ready, Polly?”
“Yes,” said Polly; “that is—all but—” and she dashed off for Phronsie's eating apron.
“Sometime,” said Phronsie, with her mouth half full, when the meal was nearly over, “we're going to be awful rich ”

“ Once or twice she had thought, “Now the time is coming!” but it never did: for winter shut in very cold, and it took so much more to feed and warm them, that the money went faster than ever. And then, when the way seemed clear again, the store changed hands, so that for a long time she failed to get her usual supply of sacks and coats to make ”