Why, Willie! it's no brass medal, child;--it's a sovereign!" "No-o-o-o! Is it?
O grannie!" he cried, and went dancing about the room, as if he would actually fly with delight.
Willie had never seen a sovereign, for that part of the country was then like Holland--you never saw gold money there.

To get it for him, his grandmother had had to send to the bank in the county town.
After this she would often give him sixpence or a shilling, and sometimes even a half-crown when she asked him to do anything she thought a little harder than usual; so that Willie had now plenty of money with which to carry out his little plans.

When remonstrated with by her daughter for giving him so much, his grandmother would say-- "Look how the boy spends it!--always _doing_ something with it! He never wastes it on sweets--not he!--My Willie's above that!" The old lady generally spoke of him as if she were the chief if not the sole proprietor of the boy.
"I'm sure I couldn't do better with it," she would add; "and that you'll see when he comes to be a man.

He'll be the making of you all." "But, mother, you can't afford it." "How do you know that?
I can afford it very well.

I've no house-rent to pay; and I am certain it is the very best return I can make you for your kindness.