ion.

Joey looked disappointed, and even unconvinced. Then his face
brightened. "That's 'cause you was too little, like that canary at th'
Res't'rant what ain't got its feathers yet. You was too little fer yer
wings to have growed afore you come away," and his lively imagination
having thus settled the problem, the two continued their way.

"Yer see how it is," he observed presently, evidently having been
revolving the subject in his busy brain, "ef Mis' Tomlin had th' doctor
an' some ice, she'd get well, she would, an' Mr. Tomlin, he's goin' to
this yere meetin' to see about work, so's he can get 'em fer her. But
'tain't no use fer workin' men to beg for work these yere days," he
added with a comical air of wisdom. "I heerd Old G. A. R. say, I did, to
a man what comes ter talk politics wid him, that beggin' th' rich people
to help yer was jus' like buttin' yer head agin a brick wall, so what
good's it goin' ter do if he does go?"

The Angel nodded amiably, and slipped her hand in Joey's that she might
the better keep up. They had passed the region of small shops and were
passing through a better portion of the city. Before a tall stone house,
one of a long row, a girl stood singing, while a boy played an
accompaniment on a harp. As Joey and his charge reached them, a lady,
with a group of children clustered about her, threw some pennies out
the window to the young musicians.

"Did yer see that, Angel," demanded Joey, "did yer ketch onter that
little game? We c'n do that. I c'n whis'le an' you c'n sing, an' we'll
make 'nough to get Mis' Tomlin th' ice ourselves. If yer do," continued
the wily Joey, "I tell yer what,--we'll go home on the cable cars, we
will." And he hurried his small companion along the sunny sidewalks,
still following the line of the cable cars, until they came to a
business street again, this time of large and handsome stores. Here,
before the most imposing, Joey paused, and cast a calculating eye upon
the stream of shoppers passing in and out. "Now, Angel, sing," he
commanded.

The footsore, tired Angel, hot and cross, declined to do it. "Her wants
to sit down an' west," she declared.

"We'll sit down out there on ther curbstone an' rest soon as yer sing
some," promised the Major. So, taking up their stand on the flagging
outside the entrance of the big store, the bare-headed Angel, in her
worn gingham frock, highbred and beautiful as a little princess,
despite it, struck up with as much effec