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"So it is, Jemmie," replied her mother, sighing, "but thank God, child, you don't keep your bed; that would break my heart. I hope it'll please Him to spare me that sorrow, and then I'll be contented if you can only crawl like a snail."

"I wish it was treat time," said little Susan ; "oh, how we did enjoy it, mother! if only you had been there! Oh, they were such grand trees in the forest, mother, they seemed to reach up to the clouds; I'm sure the birds could'nt build their nests up there! Why they were three times. higher nor these chimbley stacks!"

"I liked the ride best," said Jemmie; "wasn't it nice to be carried along like that, and resting all the time; and teacher was so kind. She lent me her thick shawl to sit on; and how nice it was. What a lot of flowers we brought you, mother. And how nice and dry our acorns have kept.

"When I'm only a little bit older,” said Sam, “and earn more money, we'll have such jaunts into the country; won't it be fun to climb a tree, and lie on the grass!"

The mother sighed wearily; but she encouraged the children to gossip on cheerfully,

for the work went twice as quick, while the memories were living over again the few, few days of fresh air and sunshine they had known. And the work must be done, for the sake of food and shelter, such as it was. As for clothes, they were not thought of; for they were darned, patched, and “tidied up," till they were all darn, and only replaced, when some kind friend gave a cast off garment. Jemmie made pretty little dolls' bedsteads, the frames of which, made of white wire, she bent into shape, and strengthened with slender strips of tin. Sam soldered them neatly together for her in his precious spare time, the wire and tin being sold to her cheap, cut ready into lengths, by a friendly tinman. Then Jemmie trimmed them up with white muslin worked round with gay coloured yarn. They were such pretty little toys that she found a tolerably ready sale for them.

"What a sight of work you've got for me, Jemmie!" said Sam, as his mother cleared away the tea, and his sister got out the wires. "A chap ought to have a lot of strength for such a nigger drivin missus as you!"

"Never mind, Sam,” said Jemmie, cheerfully; "don't do no more nor you feels inclined

all about us; and master has riz my wages a shilling a week. I'm the happiest chap in London, and I'll never call him "old skinny" no more, that I won't! Hurray, Jemmie! Up ye goes Sue."

"I am sorry, my friends," said the Ball, "I can tell you no more of them; for you see I was packed up with the rest and sent off to the Crystal Palace, where Mrs. Spenser bought me on the bazaar day, and I have lived among you ever since. But I should like to know how Sam, and Jemmie, and little Sue are getting on."

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HEN the Ball had concluded his story, and had modestly taken a leap backwards out of the way, he was eagerly

accorded the warm thanks of the party, and desired in his turn to call upon some one else.

"I am sure I feel deeply honoured that you should be amused with my poor story, and hope sincerely that my successors will have something more interesting to relate. I will now call upon our merry friend the Hoop, to give us his experiences in life.”

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"O dear me," cried the Hoop, rolling slowly out of his corner, but contriving in his course to scatter the Marbles to all the corners of the room, and to knock down the Doll also. "My dear Doll, how sorry I am, alas! alas! I am so very unlucky in always doing awkward things."

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samples, which were always carefully collected, down to the smallest bits, and put into an old box by the boy who swept the warehouse. His master allowed him to collect them each week and carry them home to his mother, a poor, industrious widow, who earned a scanty living for her children and herself by making toys for a shop in the suburbs.

The eldest son, Sam, was shop-boy at this great leather warehouse; and feeling the importance of his position as the man of the family, and the only one receiving regular wages, and being in a place, he was not a little proud. He drew himself up on tip-toe, for he was, unluckily, rather short for his age, and spoke in the deepest tones he could make his naturally squeaky voice take, which sounded like the chirp of the cuckoo, when "in leafy June, he is out of tune!" But Sam was a good boy, and loved his mother and little sisters dearly, and would have bristled, like an angry cock robin, in the smallest but fiercest displeasure, if any one had tried to invade the parent nest.

It was Saturday night, and Sam was very tired, for he was at everyone's call, being the

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