"Why have not I a nice home?" he wondered. But the children had run away from the window, and scampered downstairs to ask their mamma for some money for the poor organ-boy. A minute afterwards two pennies were thrown to Christie from the nursery window. They fell down into the middle of a bed of pure white snowdrops, and Christie had to open the garden gate, and walk cautiously over the grass to pick them up. But for some time he could not find them, for they were hidden by the flowers; so the children ran downstairs again to help him. At last the pennies were discovered, and Christie took off his hat and made a low bow, as they presented them to him. He put the money in his pocket, and looked down lovingly on the snowdrops. "They _are_ pretty flowers, missie," he said. "Would you like one, organ-boy?" asked Mabel, standing on tip-toe, and looking into Christie's face. "Could you spare one?" said Christie, eagerly. "I'll ask mamma," said Mabel, and she ran into the house. "I'm to gather four," she said, when she came back; "organ-boy, you shall choose." It was a weighty matter selecting the flowers; and then the four snowdrops were tied together and given to Christie. "My mother once gave me some like these, missie," he said. "Does she never give you any now?" said Mabel. "No, missie, she's dead," said Christie, mournfully. "Oh!" said little Mabel, in a sorrowful, pitying voice, "poor organ-boy, poor organ-boy!" Christie now put his organ on his back and prepared to depart. "Ask him what his name is," whispered Mabel to Charlie. "No, no; you ask him." "_Please_, Charlie, ask him," said Mabel again. "What is your name, organ-boy?" said Charlie, shyly. Christie told them his name, and as he went down the road he heard their voices calling after him:-- "Come again, Christie; come again another day, Christie; come again soon, Christie." The snowdrops were very faded and withered when Christie reached the attic that night. He tried to revive them in water, but they would not look fresh again; so he laid them to rest beside his mother's faded flowers in the old spelling-book. Christie was not long in repeating his visit to the suburban road, but this time, though he played his four tunes twice through and lingered regretfully over "Home, sweet Home," he saw nothing of the children, and received neither smiles nor snowdrops. For Mabel and Charlie had gone for a long country walk with their nurse, and were far away from the sound of poor Christie's organ. Treffy was still unable to get out, and he grew rather fretful sometimes, even with Christie. It was very dull for him sitting alone all day; and he had nothing to comfort him, not even his old friend the organ. And when Christie came home at night, if the store of pence was not so large as usual, poor old Treffy would sigh and moan, and wish he could get about again, and take his old organ out as before.