see one in the city right after we were married. If he was living, he would find a way to take you all and him liking the fun and the noise and the crowd and all."

"Some day I'll be big enough to earn lots of money and take us all to the circus," asserted Danny. "And Jerry, too."

"Sure and you will," his mother said. "And now, if you children will pick me some gooseberries, I'll make you a gooseberry pie for supper."

Jerry did not join the rest in the scamper for cups and a pan nor follow them out into the back yard. He patted Kathleen's head and then went into the kitchen when he had heard the screen door slam and knew the Mullarkey children were all out of the house. He took down a bottle from the shelf by the table and slipped quietly out to the street.

When he was out of sight of the house he looked to see if the half-dollar were still in his pocket. The sight of it made him recall vividly all the joys that he would miss if he didn't get to see the circus. He took the coin out of his pocket and looked at it and the longer he looked the slower grew his pace. Then he thought of Kathleen and the summer cough that Mother 'Larkey said was bad for babies, and his lips suddenly closed in a firm, straight line. He clutched the half-dollar tightly in one hand, the bottle in the other, and set out as fast as his legs would carry him. He did not dare waste a moment for fear the temptation to change his mind would prove too great to be resisted.

Not once did he slacken speed till he reached the corner drug store. Speechless for lack of breath, he passed the bottle over the counter to Mr. Barton.

"Well, Jerry, what is it this time?" asked the clerk.

Jerry panted a moment before he could reply.

"Some more of—that cough medicine—for Kathleen."

"That won't take long," said Mr. Barton. "All I've got to do is to pour it from a big bottle into this little one."

He disappeared behind the prescription case, but was back long before Jerry's pulse had had time to slow down to its customary beat.

"There you are," he said. "Forty-five cents."

Jerry passed over the precious half-dollar. The pang of regret at the thought of circus delights, once so nearly his, now beyond his reach, he resolutely forced out of his mind every time he caught himself thinking about it. He tried to whistle to help forget the circus, but to his surprise not a sound issued from his lips. They were too dry to whistle. Then he suddenly heard the drug clerk exclaim:

"Gee whillikens! This is the identical half-dollar you found this afternoon! I can tell it by the black mark on it."

"Yes, it is," Jerry admitted in a forlorn tone.

"So you told about finding it—"

"No, I didn't," interrupted Jerry, "but Kathleen was all out of cough medicine and Mother 'Larkey didn't have no money."

"I see. Then you told what—"

"No, I just got the bottle and brought it here."

Mr. Barton whistled.

"Jerry, you're some boy, and there's my hand on it."

Jerry felt himself flushing as he took the proffered hand which shook his warmly.

"Grit!" exclaimed Mr. Barton. "Pure grit. That's what I call it, if anybody should ask you. And you won't get to see the circus at all."

"I guess Kathleen's cough is more important than the circus," replied Jerry. "Summer coughs are bad for babies."

"You're right there, but I'm mighty sorry you can't go. I know how my two boys will feel if they have to stay away."

He rang up the forty-five cents and returned a nickel to Jerry.

"There, I guess you've earned the right to spend the nickel on yourself."

"Give me a nickel's worth of cough drops—the kind with honey in 'em," said Jerry.

"You don't want cough drops, Jerry. Here's some good candy. It's got lots of lemon in it."

"Kathleen likes the cough drops with honey in 'em," explained Jerry. "She doesn't cough so bad after eating one of them."

"Well, you beat my time, Jerry! You must like Kathleen an awful lot."

"I do," admitted Jerry in a low voice, as a customer entered the store. He took the bag of cough drops and darted out through the door, but not too quickly to overhear Mr. Barton saying to the man who had entered:

"That boy's got enough sand to supply all the contractors in town. Plucky as they make 'em."

Jerry was not quite sure that he understood what Mr. Barton meant about the sand, but his saying that he was plucky made him feel glad and uncomfortable at the same time. Somehow it didn't seem quite so hard to have given up seeing the circus. He wouldn't mind not seeing the elephant jump the fence—well, not so very much. He could look at the billboard poster all he wanted to and that would be almost as good.

He started home on a run but soon slackened his speed, and the nearer he got the slower became his pace. He didn't want Danny to know that he had bought something for Kathleen, for Danny called him "Kathleen's pet" as it was and he didn't like to be laughed at. Perhaps he could sneak in without any of them seeing him and put the bottle back on the shelf and no one would know how it got full.

The Mullarkey children were still picking gooseberries and Mother 'Larkey was still in the living room sewing on Mrs. Green's dress. Jerry tiptoed carefully into the kitchen, replaced the bottle, stuffed the cough drops into his blouse pocket and went into the living room, where he squatted down by Kathleen.

Hardly had he done so when the voices of the other children coming back to the house were heard.

"Gooseberries all picked?" sighed Mrs. Mullarkey. "Then I must be getting supper."

When she left the room, Jerry fished a cough drop out of his pocket and gave it to Kathleen. She smiled in delight at sight of it and at once popped it into her mouth, cooing at Jerry.

"Mother, why didn't you make Jerry help pick gooseberries?" asked Danny, as soon as he entered and caught sight of Jerry.

"He can't have any pie, can he, Mother?" said Celia Jane.

"Why, he was out with you," replied Mrs. Mullarkey. "He just this minute came in."

"He wasn't near the gooseberry patch," Danny informed her.

"He didn't pick a single gooseberry," Celia Jane interpolated.

"Nora," appealed their mother, "you always tell the truth. Didn't Jerry help you?"

"I didn't see him, Mother. Ask Jerry."

"Did you help them, Jerry? Not that it makes any difference; you'll get just as big a piece of pie as any of them."

"No'm, I didn't," replied Jerry. His lips parted again as though he wanted to say more but closed without a word.

"You're such a willing worker, I thought Danny was just trying to get even for something," said Mother 'Larkey.

"Where'd you go, Jerry?" asked Chris.

"Yah! Tell us that," demanded Danny.

"I just thought I'd run over to the drug store," replied Jerry.

"What did you want to go there for?"

Jerry said nothing.

"I bet he found a penny and bought himself some candy," cried Celia Jane, falling into the habit that many older people have of judging others by themselves.

"Tandy," said Kathleen, struck by that word, and she pulled the remnant of the cough drop out of her mouth and displayed it proudly.

"Jerry, you ate all the rest yourself!" accused Celia Jane. "Greedy, greedy, greedy!"

"Oh, did um buy some tandy for um's 'ittle Tatleen?" mocked Danny.

"I want some," said Celia Jane. "Mother, make Jerry give me some candy."

"It was cough drops for Kathleen," said