bits of calico in the quilts, and to vegetables that ripened a week earlier for Mrs. Crane, than similar varieties did for any one else. Yet the garden was so little, and the variety so great, that Mrs. Crane never had enough of any one thing to sell. She owned her little home, but very little else. The two upstairs rooms were rented to lodgers, and she knitted stockings and mittens to sell because she could knit without using her eyes, which, like so many soft, bright black eyes, were far from strong; but the little income so gained was barely enough to keep stout, warm-hearted, over-generous Mrs. Crane supplied with food and fuel. The neighbours often wondered what would become of the good, lonely woman if she lost her lodgers, if her eyes failed completely or if she should fall ill. Everybody agreed that Mrs. Crane should have been a wealthy woman instead of a poor one, because she would undoubtedly have done so much good with her money. Mabel had heard her fa-
