I was awakened, some hours after, by some one pulling my hair, and a
little voice calling in my ear, 'Up! up, boy! up! up!'

I looked up, and saw a little roguish face looking at me--the merriest,
brightest little face you can imagine.

'Up, up, boy, please!' she said again, in a coaxing voice.

So I lifted up my head, and she climbed out of her little bed on the
sofa on to my knee.

'Put shoes on, boy,' she said, holding out her little bare toes.

I put on her shoes and stockings, and then Mrs. Millar came in and
dressed her.

It was a lovely afternoon; the storm had ceased whilst we had been
asleep, and the sun was shining brightly. I got the dinner ready, and
the child watched me, and ran backwards and forwards, up and down the
kitchen. She seemed quite at home now and very happy.

My grandfather was still asleep, so I did not wake him. Mrs. Millar
brought in some broth she had made for the child, and we dined together.
I wanted to feed her, as I had done the night before, but she said,--

'Timpey have 'poon, please!' and took the spoon from me, and fed herself
so prettily, I could not help watching her.

'God bless her, poor little thing!' said Mrs. Millar.