their sweethearts' initials with penknives in the soft lead. There was
five-and-seven-pence halfpenny altogether, and even the upright Anthea
admitted that that was too much to pay for four people's dinners. Robert
said he thought eighteenpence.

[Illustration: Every one now turned out his pockets]

And half-a-crown was finally agreed to be "handsome."

So Anthea wrote on the back of her last term's report, which happened to
be in her pocket, and from which she first tore her own name and that of
the school, the following letter:--

"DEAR REVEREND CLERGYMAN,--We are very hungry
indeed because of having to fly all day, and we
think it is not stealing when you are starving to
death. We are afraid to ask you for fear you
should say 'No,' because of course you know about
angels, but you would not think we were angels. We
will only take the necessities of life, and no
pudding or pie, to show you it is not grediness
but true starvation that makes us make your larder
stand and deliver. But we are not highwaymen by
trade."

"Cut it short," said the others with one accord. And Anthea hastily
added--

"Our intentions are quite honourable if you only
knew. And here is half-a-crown to show we are