"I--I live with grandfather and grandmother, ma'm; they are old and poor--you don't know how poor; for he, grandpa, has been sick, and--it seems strange--I eat as much as any of them. Well, ma'm, I tried to get something to do, but you see how little I am; nobody will think me strong enough, even to tend baby; so we have all been without anything to eat, since day before yesterday." "Poor thing!" muttered the huckster-woman, "poor thing!" "Well, ma'm, I must do something. I can bear anything better than seeing them hungry. I did not sleep a wink all last night, but kept thinking what I should do. I never begged in my life; _they_ never did; and it made me feel sick to think of it; but I could have done it rather than see them sit and look at each other another day. Did you ever see an old man cry for hunger, ma'm?" "No, no, God forbid!" answered the dame, brushing a plump hand across her eyes. "I have," said the child, with a sob, "and it was this that made me think that begging, after all, was not so very, very mean. So, this morning, I asked them to let me go out; but grandpa said he might go himself, if he were strong enough; but I never should--never--never!" "Nice old man--nice old man!" said the huckster-woman. "I did not ask again," resumed the child, "for an idea had come into my head in the night. I have seen little girls, no older than I am, selling radishes and strawberries, and things." "Yes--yes, I understand!" said the old woman, and her eyes began to twinkle the more brightly that they were wet before. "But I had no strawberries to sell, nor a cent of money to buy them with!" "Well! well!" "Not even a basket!" "Poor thing!" "But I was determined to do something. So I went to a grocery, where grandpa used to buy things when he had money, and they trusted me with this basket." "That was very kind of them!" "Wasn't it very kind?" said the child, her eyes brightening, "especially as I told them it was all myself--that grandpa knew nothing about it. See what a nice new basket it is--you can't think how much courage it gave me. When I came into the market it seemed as if I shouldn't be afraid to ask anybody about trusting me a little." "And yet you came clear to this side without stopping to ask anybody?" "I was looking into their faces to see if it would do," answered the child, with meek simplicity, "but there was something in every face that sent the words back into my throat again." "So you stopped here because it was almost the last stand." "No, no, I did not think of that," said the child eagerly. "I stopped because something seemed to tell me that this was the place. I thought if you would not trust me, you would, any way, be patient and listen." The old huckster-woman laughed--a low, soft laugh--and the little girl began to smile through her tears. There was something mellow and comfortable in that chuckle, that warmed her to the heart. "So you were sure that I would trust you--hey, quite sure?"