corner and stopped shortly in a narrow but clean court, surrounded by
small, trim cottages with tiny squares of green in front.

The madame led them up a gravelled foot-path--there were no fences--to
a door in one of these, which she opened and entered.

"Follow, follow!" she called out merrily, and flitted up the narrow,
uncarpeted stairway. She stopped at the head of this, and stood till all
had gathered about her in the dim little hall-way, then, with a graceful
flourish, cried, "Behold then!" and threw wide a door.

There was a universal shout of satisfaction, which made the madame's
eyes dance, while Sara's grew misty with feeling; for that kind little
Frenchwoman had almost settled their rooms for them, doing all an
outsider could do, so that the bare, homeless look many of us can
remember when newly entering a tenantless house, was quite removed.

After the first pause of surprise, the children began running wildly
about, while the madame and Sara took it more leisurely. "See," said
the former, "it is here your sitting room, with three pleasant windows,
and a bit of a fireplace under this wooden mantel. When it is dressed
with something bright it will not so bare seem. Here are two cosey
bedrooms with the air and light, and a so large closet between, besides
this cunning little bath-apartment, which I know you will much prize.
Then here," throwing open a door, "is your kitchen, with two fine
windows, and this tiny range. Is it not pretty?"

She ran about, showing its conveniences, and explaining how these
apartment-cottages were built by a humane society, to furnish
comfortable homes for those who had little means, ending:--