copy it. It seems to me beautifully done," and when Fritz, who had not
found the shop so interesting as the others had done, in his turn gave
her a tug and said, "Auntie, aren't you coming?" she pointed out to him
what it was she was so pleased with.

"Isn't it sweet, Fritz?" said auntie.

"Yes," said Fritz, "but it's rather dirty, auntie, isn't it?"

Fritz was very, what is called, _practical_. The "it" that auntie was
speaking about was an old picture, hanging up on the wall at the side of
the door. It was the portrait of a little girl, a very little girl, of
not more than three or four years old. She had a dear little face, sweet
and bright, and yet somehow a very little sad, or else it was the
long-ago make of the dress, and the faded look of the picture itself,
beside the baby-like face that made it _seem_ sad. You couldn't help
thinking the moment you saw it, "Dear me, that little girl must be a
very old woman by now or most likely she must be dead!" I think it was
that that made one feel sad on first looking at the picture, for, after
all, the face _was_ bright and happy-looking: the rosy, roguish, little
mouth was smiling, the soft blue eyes had a sort of twinkling fun in
them, though they were so soft, and the fair hair, so fair that it
almost seemed white, drawn up rather tight in an old-fashioned way, fell
back again on one side as if little Blue-eyes had just been having a
good run. And one fat, dimpled shoulder was poked out of the prim white
frock in a way that, I daresay, had rather shocked the little girl's
mother when the painter first showed her his work, for our little, old,
great-great-grandfathers' and great-great-grandmothers', children, must
have had to sit very, very still in their very best and stiffest frocks
and suits when their pictures were painted, poor little things! They
were not so lucky as you are nowadays, who have only to go to the
photograph man's for half an hour, and keep your merry faces still for a
quarter of a minute, if your mothers want to have a picture of you!

But Blue-eyes must have had some fun when _her_ picture was painted, I
think, or else that little shoulder wouldn't have got leave to poke
itself out of its sleeve, and there wouldn't have been that mischievous
look about the comers of her mouth.

"_Isn't_ it a little dirty, auntie?" said Fritz.

"Wouldn't your face look a little dirty if it had been hanging up in a
frame for over a hundred years?" said auntie,