had a bun in both hands, and had stopped in the middle of a bite to
watch her. Sara gave her a little nod, and the child, after another
stare,--a curious, longing stare,--jerked her shaggy head in response,
and until Sara was out of sight she did not take another bite or even
finish the one she had begun.

At that moment the baker-woman glanced out of her shop-window.

"Well, I never!" she exclaimed. "If that young'un hasn't given her buns
to a beggar-child! It wasn't because she didn't want them, either--well,
well, she looked hungry enough. I'd give something to know what she did
it for." She stood behind her window for a few moments and pondered.
Then her curiosity got the better of her. She went to the door and spoke
to the beggar-child.

"Who gave you those buns?" she asked her.

The child nodded her head toward Sara's vanishing figure.

"What did she say?" inquired the woman.

"Axed me if I was 'ungry," replied the hoarse voice.

"What did you say?"

"Said I was jist!"

"And then she came in and got buns and came out and gave them to you,
did she?"