WAIFS AND STRAYS.


In the shop it was not yet so dark but that old Oliver could see his way
out with the shutters, which during the day occupied a place behind the
door. He lifted the flap of the counter, and was about to go on with his
usual business, when a small voice, trembling a little, and speaking from
the floor at his very feet, caused him to pause suddenly.

"Please, rere's a little girl here," said the voice.

Oliver stooped down to bring his eyes nearer to the ground, until he
could make out the indistinct outline of the figure of a child, seated on
his shop floor, and closely hugging a dog in her arms. Her face looked
small to him; it was pale, as if she had been crying quietly, and though
he could not see them, a large tear stood on each of her cheeks.

"What little girl are you?" he asked, almost timidly.

"Rey called me Dolly," answered the child.

"Haven't you any other name?" inquired old Oliver

"Nosing else but Poppet," she said; "rey call me Dolly sometimes, and
Poppet sometimes. Ris is my little dog, Beppo."

She introduced the dog by pushing its nose into his hand, and Beppo
complacently wagged his tail and licked the old man's withered fingers.

"What brings you here in my shop, my little woman?" asked Oliver.