ndid things in the world that I am glad to live and be among
them, if I can't ever be quite straight and strong."

"My dear child!" Doctor Joe's eyes said the rest.

They waited for the crowd to get out. Charles came down the aisle with
his father and Mr. Bradbury, and Mr. Dean was escorting his little
girls. They had a very delightful chat, and were charmed with the leader
of the children's concert.

"Charles must take good care of his voice," said Mr. Bradbury. "It may
sometime prove a fortune to him. He is a fine boy, and any father might
well be proud of him."

"I just wish mother had wanted to be there," Charles said, as his
father was opening the door with his latch-key. The light was turned low
in the hall, and Mrs. Reed had gone to bed, an unprecedented step with
her.

Hanny found that she couldn't spend all the Saturdays with little
Stevie. She wished they were twice as long; but they always seemed
shorter than any other day. Dolly came down now and then, and was just
as bright and merry as ever.

But old Mr. Beekman grew more feeble, and was confined to the house most
of the time. Hanny had to go down-town and visit him and Katschina. He
was delighted to have her come, and Katschina purred her tenderest
welcome. She was like a bit of sunshine, with her cheerful smile and her
sweet, merry wisdom. She told him about the school and Daisy, their
plays and songs; and they were never tired of talking about Stephen's
baby. It could laugh aloud now; the reddish fuzz was falling out, and
the new soft hair shone like pale gold on his pink scalp.

There were so many other friends, the Bounett cousins, and Dele Whitney,
who was just as jolly as ever, with the old aunts down in Beach Street,
and who declared the little girl was the sweetest thing in the world,
and that some day she should just steal her, and carry her off to
fairyland.

CHAPTER II

AN INTERVIEW WITH A TIGER

There came to New York in May a menagerie. A chance like this roused the
children to a pitch of the wildest enthusiasm. Wonderful posters were
put up. It was not considered a circus at all, but a moral and
instructive show, if it did not have delightful Artemas Ward to
expatiate upon it. There were a great many children who had never seen
an elephant. Hanny Underhill had not.

Jim said, "There was a live lion stuffed with straw; a zebra that had
fifty stripes from the tip of his nose to his tail, nary stripe alike; a
laughing hye