Mrs. Callahan did not tell that the drunken man had struck her and that the children—­seeing her fall to the floor as if dead—­ran out screaming, and that the frightened neighbors called a doctor and a policeman.  She made the tale as favorable to ‘pa’ as she could.  She went on to say that, having broken the pledge, he was sent to the workhouse for sixty days and she was left without money, with seven children to care for.

“They want me to put the children away to the ’sylums, but we want to stay together, ma’am.  We can get on elegant with a little help with the rent and a teenchy bit grocery order now and then.  Mine is helpful children, ma’am, and t’ain’t as if they were all little.  Peggy’s near ’leven though she’s small for her age.  And even them twins, ma’am, they pick up sticks for kindlin’ and help in ways untold.”

“What have you to eat in the house?” asked Miss Margery.

“There’s some potatoes, ma’am.  They’re mighty filling when they’re cold.”

Miss Margery knit her brows and considered.  There were many calls on the limited fund at her command.  “The money from the workhouse for your husband’s labor will pay the rent,” she calculated.  “I will give you a small grocery order twice a week.  You can manage with that?”

“Oh, yessum, splendid, and thank you kindly, ma’am,” said Mrs. Callahan.  “Don’t put down meat—­just a little piece onct a week so’s not to forget the taste.  And a leetle mite coffee.  Put in mostly fillin’ things—­rice and beans and dried apples.  You got to cram seven hearty children.  Thank’e, thank’e, ma’am.  Peggy, give the little lady some roses, the purtiest ones where the frost hasn’t nipped ’em.”

While Miss Margery talked with Mrs. Callahan, Anne was getting acquainted with the children.  She chattered gleefully about them on her homeward way.  “Peggy says a lady her mother sews for gave them a lot of clothes.  Peggy has a pink velvet waist and a red skirt, and her mother has a lace waist and a blue skirt with rows and rows of blue satin on it.  They’re very int’resting children, Miss Margery, but do you think they always tell just the very exact truth?” asked Anne.

“I’m afraid they do not.  I’m afraid their mother doesn’t set them a very good example,” answered Miss Margery who knew the Callahans of old.

“Peggy says it isn’t harm to tell a fib that don’t hurt anybody,” said Anne.

“I hope you told her it was.”

“Yes, Miss Margery.  I told her we thought it was low-down to tell stories.  And Peggy just laughed and said they wouldn’t act so stiff as to tell the truth all the time.—­Miss Margery, when are you going there again?  I do want to go with you.  The baby has a new tooth coming.  You can feel it.  I want to see it when it comes through.  May I go with you another Saturday?”

“Perhaps.”

CHAPTER XXVI

Two weeks passed.  Peggy or John Edward or Elmore came duly on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the grocery orders and reported that the family was getting on “elegant” or “splendid.”  One Friday afternoon, a neighbor of the little brown house flounced into the office.