e buttons on Aunt
Charlotte's dress, and stroked her fur cloak, with a smile. That was a
queer thing for such a large girl to do, but Aunt Charlotte did not seem
to mind it, and only said, "I fancy Lucy wants a lozenge," and popped
one into her mouth as if she had been a baby. Flaxie stared, and the
mother said, with a sad smile:

"Poor Lucy knows but very little. Aren't you sorry for her?"

"Oh dear, why doesn't she?" said Flaxie, forgetting her own trouble in
gazing at the strange little girl, who was now stroking Aunt Charlotte's
cloak again, as if she did not hear a word that was said. "Why doesn't
she know but little?"

"Because she was very sick a great many years ago, and it hurt her
mind."

"Can she talk?"

"She only says 'Papa,' 'Mamma,' 'Hattie.' She talks just about as well
as the baby does, and they play together half the time."

"Does she go to school?" asked Flaxie, growing very much interested
indeed.

"To school? Oh no! _she_ couldn't learn anything," said Mrs. Chase,
sighing.

But Hattie seemed rather proud of having such a strange sister.

"See that?" said she, holding up Lucy's right hand.

"Why, it's littler than mine, and all dried up," exclaimed Flaxie
Frizzle.

"Poor dear, she has lost her mittens again," said Mrs. Chase, wiping
Lucy's mouth. "I can't afford to keep buying mittens for her, she loses
them so."

"Wouldn't it be well to fasten them to her cloak-sleeve by a string?"
asked Mrs. Allen.

Flaxie gazed bewildered at this singular little girl, who could not wipe
her own mouth, or talk, or go to school. She had never known of such a
little girl before.

"Too bad about Lucy!" said she, thoughtfully, to her aunt as they got
out at Chicopee, and left the whole Chase family looking after them from
the car-window. "Is Lucy poor?"

"Very."

"Where does she live?"

"In Hilltop."

"Oh! I didn't s'pose she lived in Hilltop."

"There," said Aunt Charlotte, "now this next house is Mrs. Adams's,
where you will see the gold-fishes."

But Flaxie did not care just then for the gold-fishes.

"Auntie, don't you think Lucy ought to have some mittens?"

She spoke cheerily, as if mittens were the very thing, and the only
thing Lucy needed.

"And, auntie, _I_ can crochet!"

"Is it possible?" said Aunt Charlotte, thinking how many things Flaxie
had learned that little Milly knew nothing about. "How much can you
crochet?"

"Well, I made a scarf once for my dolly. I _wish_ I cou