"It looks like bags--tied up," she cried. "Oh, come here yourself!"

The old woman hobbled over and thrust her hand into the hole, bringing
out what was once a bag, but which crumpled to pieces in her hands, and
with it--oh, wonder!--a handful of gold pieces, which fell with a
jingle on the hearth, and rolled every way.

"My father's money! Oh, Hetty!" was all she could say, and she seized a
chair to keep from falling, while Hetty was nearly wild, and talked
like a crazy person.

"Oh, goody! goody! now you can have things to eat! and we can have a
candle! and you won't have to go to the poorhouse!"

"No, indeed, you dear child!" cried Miss Bennett who had found her
voice. "Thanks to you--you blessing!--I shall be comfortable now the
rest of my days. And you! oh! I shall never forget you! Through you has
everything good come to me."

"Oh, but you have been so good to me, dear Miss Bennett!"

"I should never have guessed it, you precious child! If it had not been
for your quickness I should have died and never found it."

"And if you hadn't given me the box, it might have rusted away in that
chest."

"Thank God for everything, child! Take money out of my purse and go buy
a candle. We need not save it for bread now. Oh, child!" she
interrupted herself, "do you know, we shall have everything we want