tiness. As to the pie we had bought, Jimmy
carried that, and Gipsey cut up so many antics inside the basket, that
he nearly wriggled it out of my hand altogether.

After that we went on, and found, dear me! such a comfortable old market
woman, who sold us a nice little chicken, and some fresh vegetables, and
gave the children each a great handful of cherries; but we had to tell
her to send them home, with our pie, because Gipsey had the basket in
possession.

Then we walked into the street again, and when we had let Gipsey out of
prison, concluded to leave the basket at my baker's, and take a walk in
Broadway. Dear, dear me! what quantities of shop windows there were to
stare into, and how we flattened our three noses, and spread our six
hands all over every one of them, while we admired the splendid picture
books, the stores of sugar plums, or the wonders of toys they contained!
While we were occupied in this way, a little girl, poorly dressed, and
lugging a large bundle of work in both arms, came along, and stopping
beside us at the window of the most splendid toy shop, stood looking
wistfully in.

Neighbor Nelly straightway twitched my hand, and whispered, "Oh look,
Neighbor Oldbird! what a poor little girl! I don't suppose she ever saw
a doll before in her life. How she must wish she had one!"

"Suppose we ask her?" I said.

"Will you ask?" she answered; "I don't like to."

"Nonsense! ask her yourself; she won't eat you, or Gipsey either;" for
Gipsey was sidling away between my feet, as if he were alarmed too; the
saucy scamp!

Thereupon Nelly moved closer to the poor girl, and said, in a kind,
little, timid voice, "Do you like dolls?"

"Yes, very much!" said the child, with a surprised look.

"Oh, so do I!" cried Nelly, rapturously. "I have lots of them at home;
let me see, there's Jenny, and Willie, and old black Nanny, and--" she
stopped short, seeing the other look wistfully at her, and then said,
"Oh, I forgot! you have none, perhaps; would you like to have one?"

"Oh yes, miss!" said the child; "not so much for myself, though, as my
little sister; she is sick, and can't do anything, poor Clara! but I
work, and help my mother!" she added, proudly.

"What does your mother do?" asked Jimmy.

"She makes shirts for the army; and I do all the button holes."

"I can't make a button hole," said Nelly, regretfully.

Here I proposed we should walk into the shop, and after we had looked
all we wanted to