'Don't be frightened, my dear,' said the voice; 'it's only me. Toby told me
about your mother, and so I came to sit with her till you came.'

Rosalie walked to her mother's side, and on the box by the bed she found a
little creature about three feet high, with a very old and wrinkled face.

'Who are you?' said Rosalie.

'I belong to the Dwarf Show, my dear,' said the old woman. 'There are four
of us there, and not one of us more than three feet high.'

'But isn't it going on to-night?' said Rosalie.

'Yes, it's going on, my dear; it always goes on,' said the tiny old woman;
but I'm old and ugly, you see, so I can be better spared than the others. I
only go in sometimes, my dear; old age must have its liberties, you see.'

'Thank you so much for taking care of my mother,' said Rosalie; 'has she
spoken to you yet?'

'Yes, my dear,' said the old woman; 'she spoke once, but I couldn't well
hear what she said. I tried to reach up near to her mouth to listen; but
you see I'm only three feet high, so I couldn't quite manage it. I thought
it was something about a sheep, but of course it couldn't be that, my dear;
there are no sheep here.'

'Oh yes,' said Rosalie, 'that would be it; we had been reading about sheep
before we went into the theatre.'

Just then a noise was heard at the door of the caravan, and Augustus