“It’s my dooty to come to you, lady,” said Mrs. Flannagan, “and I does my dooty when it’s hard on other folks.  You wouldn’t give me a bit of groceries last week, but they tell me you rain down grocery orders on Mrs. Callahan, and she spendin’ money like she was President Bill Taft or Johnny Rockefeller.”

“What do you mean, Mrs. Flannagan?  Please explain,” said the long-suffering Charity lady.

“I mean this,” said Mrs. Flannagan.  “With my own two eyes I seen ’em yestiddy afternoon—­Mrs. Callahan and them four biggest children walkin’ down the street like a rainbow in silk and satin and lace, goin’ past my house ‘thout lookin’ at me any more’n I was one of them cobblestones.  ‘Good-day,’ I says, and Mrs. Callahan says, says she, ’Good-day.  It’s Mrs. Flannagan, ain’t it?’—­like she hain’t been in and out of my house these two years!  ‘Whar’s the kittle-bilin’ of you goin’ to-day?’ I asked, and she tosses her head and says, says she, ’Oh, it don’t agree with the children’s health to stay at home so clost.  I’m takin’ ’em on a ‘scursion down the river to see the shows.’  And they ain’t come back till dark, for I sat at my front window to see.  There’s where your Charity money goes, ma’am.”

Miss Margery sighed as her informer flaunted away.  She must look into the matter before giving any more grocery orders, and if Mrs. Callahan was really wasting money, as Mrs. Flannagan declared, the Charities’ aid must be withdrawn.

The next morning, Peggy entered the office, her usually smiling face very sober.  Before Miss Margery had time to mention excursions and grocery orders, Peggy made a request.

“If you please’m, lady,” she said, “mommer says won’t you give us a help with the rent?  It’s due to-day and we’re three dollars short.”

“Didn’t officer McFlaerty bring the money from your father on Monday?”

“Yessum, lady,” confessed Peggy.

“Your mother told me she would put that aside for the rent—­every cent of it—­and that it would leave her lacking only one dollar of the rent money.  Now you say she is three dollars short.  Peggy, I am afraid your family has been wasting money.”  The Charity lady spoke severely, mindful of Mrs. Flannagan’s tale.  Peggy did not answer.  She looked embarrassed, and twisted her toe under a loose strip of matting.  Miss Margery continued, after a pause, “Mrs. Flannagan told me that you went on an excursion Thursday.”

Peggy brightened and dimpled.  “Yessum, lady.  We told her we was a-goin’.  It made her so mad.  I wisht you could ‘a’ seen her flirt in and slam her door.”  Peggy’s merry laugh pealed forth.  “And we told her we was a-goin’ to the shows, too.”

“Peggy! do you think I ought to help you with the rent when you are wasting money on excursions and shows?” Miss Margery frowned on Peggy’s mirth.

“Oh! why, ma’am!” Peggy seemed amazed that it was necessary to explain.  “We didn’t go to no shows or no ‘scursions.  We weren’t thinkin’ ’bout goin’.  That was a lie.  It was just to make Mrs. Flannagan mad.  She put on so many airs ‘bout goin’ street-car-ridin’ last Sunday.”