She said to leave it in there."
"Couldn't she eat any of that nice chicken Mrs. Pennington sent?"
"No, nor Mrs. Carpenter's lemon jelly."
"Poor mamma!" sighed the girl.
But Jimmy had other reflections. Two minutes later he walked past his
mother's open door, and fumbled around in the sitting-room.
"Is that you, Jimmy?" asked his mother.
"Yes 'm," rejoined the boy.
"What are you doing?"
"Lookin' for my other coat."
"Won't you come in and see me, Jimmy? I haven't seen you for two whole
days."
"In a minute," returned Jimmy.
Standing awkwardly in the doorway, he asked, "What 'd you want?"
"Come over here, Jimmy," returned the mother. "My poor, neglected
boy!" He would not let his eyes find the new baby. He stood stiffly on
one foot, and gave his mother his hand. She drew him down and kissed
his cheek, while he pecked at her lips. As Jimmy rose, his mother
smiled.
[Illustration: _She drew him down and kissed his cheek while he pecked
at her lips_.]
"Are you hungry, Jimmy?"
The boy nodded a vociferous affirmative. Being a boy, one of the
lowest orders of human creatures in point of intuitions, Jimmy could
not know that his mother understood the rankle in her son's heart. Nor
could he divine that she kept the supper dainties as peace offerings.
"Won't you have some of my supper?"
"Don't you want it?" returned the boy, to justify his greed.
"No, Jimmy; I'm not hungry.
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