One day they even pushed the kitten through; but the hole was hardly
large enough for her, and she mewed and scratched and was very much
frightened. After that the little boy said he would ask his father if
the hole might not be made larger, and then Piccola could come in and
play with them. The father had found out that Piccola's mother was a
good woman, and that the little girl herself was sweet and kind, so
that he was very glad to have some of the stones broken away and an
opening made for Piccola to come in.

How excited she was, and how glad the children were when she first
stepped into the garden! She wore her best dress, a long,
bright-colored woolen skirt and a white waist. Round her neck was a
string of beads, and on her feet were little wooden shoes. It would
seem very strange to us--would it not?--to wear wooden shoes; but
Piccola and her mother had never worn anything else, and never had any
money to buy stockings. Piccola almost always ran about barefooted,
like the kittens and the chickens and the little ducks. What a good
time they had that day, and how glad Piccola's mother was that her
little girl could have such a pleasant, safe place to play in, while
she was away at work!

By and by December came, and the little Americans began to talk about
Christmas. One day, when Piccola's curly head and bright eyes came
peeping through the hole in the wall, and they ran to her and helped
her in; and as they did so, they all asked her at once what she
thought she would have for a Christmas present. "A Christmas present!"
said Piccola. "Why, what is that?"

All the children looked surprised at this, and Rose said, rather