pavement--she saw something shining in the gutter. A piece of silver--a
tiny piece trodden upon by many feet, but still with spirit enough
to shine a little. Not quite a sixpence, but the next thing to it--a
four-penny piece! In one second it was in her cold, little red and blue
hand. "Oh!" she gasped. "It is true!"

And then, if you will believe me, she looked straight before her at the
shop directly facing her. And it was a baker's, and a cheerful, stout,
motherly woman, with rosy cheeks, was just putting into the window a
tray of delicious hot buns,--large, plump, shiny buns, with currants in
them.

It almost made Sara feel faint for a few seconds--the shock and the
sight of the buns and the delightful odors of warm bread floating up
through the baker's cellar-window.

She knew that she need not hesitate to use the little piece of money.
It had evidently been lying in the mud for some time, and its owner was
completely lost in the streams of passing people who crowded and jostled
each other all through the day.

"But I'll go and ask the baker's woman if she has lost a piece of
money," she said to herself, rather faintly.

So she crossed the pavement and put her wet foot on the step of the
shop; and as she did so she saw something which made her stop.

It was a little figure more forlorn than her own--a little figure which
was not much more than a bundle of rags, from which small, bare, red and
muddy feet peeped out--only because the rags with which the wearer was