You gave money for the starving children of France.

Do you suppose I'm going to sit face to face with a little boy--_starving ?_" "I can't see his face," said Mr.Bartlett, "but he looks as if he had the Woolworth Building in his back pocket." "Little boy," Mrs.Bartlett called in her sweetest tone, "here is some money for you.

You go into that store and--_gracious me_, it's Walter Harris! What on earth are you doing here, Walter?
I thought you were a poor little--I thought you were hungry." The sturdy but diminutive form and the curly head and frowning countenance which stood confronting her were none other than those of Pee-wee Harris, B.S.A.

(Boy of Special Appetite or Boy Scouts of America, whichever you please), and he stared her full in the face without shame.
"That's the time you guessed right," he said.
"I am.".