“ CARROTS.”

“I don’t; I don’t!” sobbed Carrots, sitting

down on the floor, and crying bitterly. “You
may have all the paints, Mott; but it’s my
secret, oh, my secret!”

«What are you talking about?” said Mott
roughly, pulling out the lid as he spoke. The
box had been all tumbled about in the struggle,
and the paints came rattling out, —the paints
and the brushes and the little saucers, — and
with them came rolling down onto the floor,
children, you know what,—the “ fairies’ six-
penny,” the little bright, shining yellow half-
sovereign !

A strange change came over Mott's face.

“ Nurse!” he cried, “do you see that? What
does that mean ?”

Nurse hastened up to where he was stand-
ing ;

ishment at the spot on the carpet to which the

she stared for a moment in puzzled aston-

toe of Maurice’s boot was pointing, then she
stooped down slowly and picked up the coin,
still without speaking.

«Well, nurse,” said Maurice impatiently,
“what do you think of that?”