"I'd give some back, but mine's et up," said Joel, miserably,
under the table.

"It's too bad, David," said Polly; "here now, you may have some
of mine," and she broke off a generous bit.

"I told him he might have a bite," meekly said David, who never
could bear to have Joel blamed. "I wanted him to have it," he
added cheerfully.

"O dear-dear-dear," boohooed Joel.

Davie dropped his cake in a worried way.

"Don't, Joey," he said, leaning over to look at him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," blubbered Joel. "O dear me!"

David, unable to bear it any longer, slipped out of his chair,
and crept under the table to comfort Joel. But it wasn't till
Polly said, "Come, Joey," that he would show his face. Then he
twisted his knuckles into his eyes, and hung his head.

Mother Pepper said never a word, only held out her arms, and
Joel walked straight into them, bursting into the loud sob he
had held back so long; and then she took his hand and led him
into the bedroom, and the rest of the children sat still and
very uncomfortable, and Davie wouldn't look at his cake. When
they came out again, Joel marched straight to David, and said,
"You may have my knife."