nna sat perfectly still, staring at the brick wall.

"Hello, Rosanna!" said the voice again softly. It was a strangely sweet,
gentle voice and seemed to come from the air. Rosanna cast a startled
glance above her.

There was a little laugh. "Look in the tree," said the pleasant voice.

Rosanna, mouth open, eyes popping, looked up.

A big tree growing in the alley, close outside the brick wall, leaned
its biggest bough in a friendly fashion over Rosanna's garden. High up
something blue fluttered among the thick leaves. Then the branches
parted, and a face appeared. Rosanna continued to stare.

The little girl in the tree waved her hand.

"You don't know me, do you, Rosanna?" she teased. "But I know you. You
are Rosanna Horton, and you live in that lovely, lovely house and this
is your garden. Is that your playhouse over there? And oh, _is_ there an
honest-for-truly pony in that little barn? Dad says there really is. Is
there?" She stopped for breath, and beamed down on Rosanna.

"How did you get up there?" said Rosanna. _She_ was not allowed to climb
trees.

"Father made a little ladder and fastened it to the trunk with wires so
it won't hurt the wood. If Mrs. Horton doesn't mind, he is going to fix
a little platform up here. There is a splendid place for it. Then I can
study up here where it is all cool and breezy and whispery. Don't you
like to hear the leaves whisper? He is going to put a rail around it so
we won't fall off."

"Who is _we_?" asked Rosanna. "Have you brothers and sisters?"

"No, I haven't," said the little girl. "Mother says it is my greatest
misfortune. She says that I shall have to make a great many friends to
make up for it, and that if I don't I will grow selfish. Wouldn't you
hate to be selfish? I 'spect you have dozens and _dozens_ of little
girls to play with. How happy you must make everybody with your lovely
garden and things! My mother says that is what things are for: to share
with people. She says it is just like having two big red apples. If you
eat them both, why, you don't feel good in your tummy; but if you give
one to some one, you feel good everywhere, and you have a good time
while you are eating them and get better acquainted, and it just does
you good. Do little girls come to see you every day?"

"No," said Rosanna, "I don't know any little girls. My grandmother won't
let me."

"Won't _let_ you?" said the girl in the tree in a shocked tone. "Why
won't she let you?"