he music-box out of the hall, and put it in my little
red wheelbarrow, and you and me and Dago will start off through the
streets like the grind-organ man did yesterday, I planned it all last
night while everybody in the house was sound asleep. We'll sing when
the music-box plays songs, and you and Dago can dance when it plays
waltzes. I'll give you part of the money that we get to buy you the
prettiest doll in town. I'll take the rest and go off to the place
that I'm thinking about."

He wouldn't tell her where the place was, although she begged him with
tears in her eyes. "Some place where they're not cruel to little boys
and monkeys," was all he would tell her. "Where they don't ever whip
them, and where they don't mind 'em getting into mischief once in
awhile."

An hour later everything was ready for the start. Except for the
daintily embroidered ruffles of her white linen underskirt, that would
show below her old gingham dress, little Elsie might have been taken
for the sorriest beggar in town. The dress was faded and outgrown. The
little shawl she had pinned over her shoulders had one corner burned
out of it, and the edges of the hole were scorched and jagged. A
faded silk muffler that she had used in her doll-cradle was drawn
tightly over her tousled curls, and tied under her chin.

Phil's outfit might have come from the ragbag, too, it was so tattered
and patched. But he had forgotten to take off his silver cuff-buttons,
and the shoes he wore looked sadly out of place below the grimy jeans
overalls. He was obliged to wear a pair of bright tan-coloured shoes,
so new that they squeaked. They were the only ones he had, for his old
ones had been thrown away the day before. At first he was tempted to
go barefoot, but the November wind was chilly, although the sun shone,
and he dared not risk it.

It was ten o'clock by the court-house dial, and the bell was on the
last stroke, when little Elsie held open the alley-gate and Phil
trundled the red wheelbarrow through. I was perched on the music-box.
Rather an uncertain seat, I found it, as it slid back and forth at
every step. I had to hold on so tight that my arms were sore for two
days afterward.

"Which way shall we go?" asked little Elsie, as she fastened the gate
behind us. Phil looked up and down the alley in an uncertain way, and
then said, "When the princes in the fairy tales start out into the
wide world to make their fortunes, they blow a leather up into