r, and a great
deal of it. It was the kind of red that turned to ruddy gold when the
sun shone on it. Her features were fine, straight, and what are called
"well cut." Her eyes were a dark reddish brown, growing darker when she
was troubled or excited, hazel eyes, getting darker with every year of
her life. Then, strangely enough, both eyebrows and eyelashes were
almost black, and the lashes long and curling.

But what child, pray, ever looked pretty, no matter how fine her
features, who was only half clean, wore poor, ill-fitting, unbecoming
clothes, and whose matted hair might indeed have been a disordered wig
merely thrown on to her head?

Sally's teeth had "come in" very evenly, and had she not been brown as a
little Indian from being out bareheaded in nearly all weathers, her
skin would have been white and rosy red.

So, see you can, that although the child looked plain, and even homely,
she yet had "points," as we say, of great beauty. And then, although
Sally did not look like a brilliant child, she yet was "bright as a
dollar." That must mean a new silver dollar, which you know is very
bright and sparkles in the light. Just as maid Sally would have
brightened and sparkled had she been in the light of a good home, with
kind parents to teach her as a child needs to be taught.

Oh, but not a word has yet been said about her heart, her dear, childish
heart. Very well; it was a kind, warm, want-to-do-right kind of heart.
And this it was that made the people of Slipside Row like poor little
Sally; it was the good heart beating under her shabby little gown.

It was a very sad thing that Sally could read only the smallest words,
for her father had but taught her her letters when he was called away.
She could neither write nor spell, and saddest of all,--Sally did not
care! This shows how little she knew about life, or what she needed most
to fit her for the right kind of a life.

But the angels watch over good children, and Sally was soon to have her
young eyes opened to things she did not see as yet. And after all, there
is an old, old saying that "blood will tell," and we do not know much
yet about the kind of blood that was running through Sally's veins.

Now all her heart was bent on hearing the rest of the Fairy story, and
finding out what the happy child saw and did in Fairy Town. And soon as
she had eaten her supper, tried to coax down her thick, rumply hair, and
smooth her dress into some shape, off darte