"Mother, I want a piece of Mis' Bennett's pie!" The younger, viewing the one piece of pie remaining in the plate and her clamorous sister, raised her own jealous little pipe.

"I want a piece of Mis' Bennett's pie," she proclaimed, pulling her mother's sleeve.

"Mother, can't I have a piece of Mis' Bennett's pie ?" Flora's face was very red, and her mouth was twitching.

She hastily pushed her own pie to the elder child, and gave the last piece on the plate to the younger.

Their grandmother frowned on them like a rock, but they ate their pie unconcernedly.
"I think Mis' Bennett's pie is a good deal better than grandma's," said the younger little girl, smacking her lips contemplatively; and Flora gave a half-chuckle, while her mother's severity of mien so deepened that she seemed to cast an actual shadow.
"Now, Flora, I tell you what 'tis," said she, when the meal was at last over and the guests were gone--they took their leave very soon afterward--"if you don't punish them children, I shall." There was a wail of terror from the little girls.