But Emma roused up, at the moment, and began to fret and cry for something to eat.

“Don’t cry, dear.  You shall have your supper in a little while.  I have brought you home some nice bread and molasses,” said the mother, in tones meant to soothe and quiet her hungry and impatient little one.  But Emma continued to fret and cry on.

“It’s so cold, mamma!” she said.  “It’s so cold, and I’m hungry!”

“Don’t cry, dear,” again urged the mother.  “I’ll make the fire up nice and warm in a little while, and then you shall have something good to eat.”

But—­“It’s so cold, mamma! it’s so cold, and I’m hungry!” was the continued and incessant complaint of the poor child.

All this time, Ella had been busily engaged in peeling her orange, and dividing it into four quarters.

“See here, Emma!  Look what I’ve got!” she said, in a lively, cheerful tone, as soon as her orange had been properly divided.  “Come, cover up in bed here with me, until the fire’s made, and you shall have this nice bit of orange.”

Emma’s complaints ceased in a moment, and she turned toward her sister, and clambered upon the bed.

“And here’s a piece for you, Henry, and a piece for mother, too,” continued Ella, reaching out two other portions.

“No, dear, keep it for yourself.  I don’t want it,” said the mother.

“And Emma shall have my piece,” responded Henry; “she wants it worse than I do.”

“That is right.  Be good children, and, love one another,” said Mrs. Gaston, encouragingly.  “But Emma don’t want brother Henry’s piece, does she?”

“No, Emma don’t want brother Henry’s piece,” repeated the child; and she took up a portion of the orange as she spoke, and handed it to her brother.

Henry received it; and, getting upon the bed with his sisters, shared with them not only the orange, but kind fraternal feelings.  The taste of the fruit revived Ella a good deal and she, with the assistance of Henry, succeeded in amusing Emma until their mother had made the fire, and boiled some water.  Into a portion of the water she poured about half of the milk she had brought home, and, filling a couple of tin cups with this, set it with bread and molasses upon a little table, and called Henry and Emma to supper.  The children, at this announcement, scrambled from the bed, and, pushing chairs up to the table, commenced eating the supper provided for them with keen appetites.  Into what remained of the pint of milk, Mrs. Gaston poured a small portion of hot water, and then crumbled some bread, and put a few grains of salt into it, and took this to the bed for Ella.  The child ate two or three spoonsful; but her stomach soon turned against the food.

“I don’t feel hungry, mother,” said she, as she laid herself back upon the pillow.

“But you’ve eaten scarcely any thing to-day:  Try and take a little more, dear.  It will do you good.”