l children
were standing admiring the contents of the window. He recognized some
of these children and paused to watch them and to listen to their talk.
They did not notice him standing behind them as they ranged to and fro
before the window, and as he looked at them, he was reminded of the way
in which captive animals walk up and down behind the bars of their
cages. These children wandered repeatedly, backwards and forwards from
one end of the window to the other, with their little hands pressed
against the impenetrable plate glass, choosing and pointing out to each
other the particular toys that took their fancies.

'That's mine!' cried Charley Linden, enthusiastically indicating a
large strongly built waggon. 'If I had that I'd give Freddie rides in
it and bring home lots of firewood, and we could play at fire engines
as well.'

'I'd rather have this railway,' said Frankie Owen. 'There's a real
tunnel and real coal in the tenders; then there's the station and the
signals and a place to turn the engine round, and a red lantern to
light when there's danger on the line.'

'Mine's this doll--not the biggest one, the one in pink with clothes
that you can take off,' said Elsie; 'and this tea set; and this
needlecase for Mother.'

Little Freddie had let go his hold of Elsie, to whom he usually clung
tightly and was clapping his hands and chuckling with delight and
desire. 'Gee-gee?' he cried eagerly. 'Gee-gee. Pwetty Gee-gee!
Fweddy want gee-gee!'

'But it's no use lookin' at them any longer,' continued Elsie, with a
sigh, as she took hold of Freddie's hand to lead him away. 'It's no
use lookin' at 'em any longer; the likes of us can't expect to have
such good things as them.'

This remark served to recall Frankie and Charley to the stern realities
of life, and turning reluctantly away from the window they prepared to
follow Elsie, but Freddie had not yet learnt the lesson--he had not
lived long enough to understand that the good things of the world were
not for the likes of him; so when Elsie attempted to draw him away he
pursed up his underlip and began to cry, repeating that he wanted a
gee-gee. The other children dustered round trying to coax and comfort
him by telling him that no one was allowed to have anything out of the
windows yet--until Christmas--and that Santa Claus would be sure to
bring him a gee-gee then; but these arguments failed to make any
impression on Freddie, who tearfully insisted upo