passed into the shadow of his archway, and said to himself, 'Poor
little things;' for just so, during many years of his life, he had
watched their young mother pass through, and had exchanged words of
friendly greeting with her.

"And even now, although it was at least a year and a half since her
death, when he saw the waiting children seat themselves on the bench
opposite his door, the old thought stole over his mind. How sad that
she should have been taken away so early from those little ones! How
sad for them to be left! No one--nothing--in this world, could
supply the loss of her protecting care.--POOR LITTLE THINGS!--and not
the less so because they were altogether unconscious of their
misfortune; and here, with the mourning casting a gloom over their
fair young faces, were looking with the utmost eagerness and delight
towards the doorway,--now and then slipping down from their seats to
take a peep into the Square, and see if what they expected was
coming,--now and then giggling to each other about the grave face of
the old man on the other side of the way.

"At last, one, who had been peeping a bit as before, exclaimed, with
a smothered shout, 'Here he is!' and then the other joined her, and
the two rushed out together into the Square and stood on the
pavement, stopping the way in front of a lad, who held over his arm a
basket containing hares' and rabbits' skins, in which he carried on a
small trade.

"They looked up with their smiling faces into his, and he grinned at
them in return, and then they said, 'Have you got any for us to-day?'
on which he set down his basket before them, and told them they might
have one or two if they pleased, and down they knelt upon the