'Where is your home?' said Rosalie.

'Oh, a long way off.' she said. 'I don't suppose I shall ever get there. I
haven't a penny in my pocket, and I'm tired out already. I've been walking
all night, and all day.'

Then she began to cry again, and sobbed so loudly that Rosalie was afraid
she would awake and alarm her mother.

'Oh, Britannia,' she said, 'don't cry! Tell me what's the matter?'

'Call me by my own name,' said the girl, with another sob. 'I'm not
Britannia now, I'm Jessie; "Little Jess," my mother always calls me.'

And at the mention of her mother she cried again as if her heart would
break.

'Jessie,' said Rosalie, laying her hand on her arm, 'won't you tell me
about it?'

The girl stopped crying, and as soon as she was calmer, she told Rosalie
her story.

'I've got such a good mother; it's that which made me cry,' she said.

'Your mother isn't in the circus, then, is she?' said Rosalie.

'Oh no,' said the girl; and she almost smiled through her tears--such a
sad, sorrowful attempt at a smile it was; 'you don't know my mother or you
wouldn't ask that! No; she lives in a village a long way from here. I'm