white dress with timid little fingers. Gloria wondered why she did not
draw away, but stood still instead.

"Are youse a doctor-woman? W'ere's yer bag? Yer ain't t'rew yer bag
away?"

Illustrat[ion: "And who is Rosy?"]

"Huh! She ain't no doctor-woman." This from Dinney, who had the
advantage of early acquaintance. "She's on'y a cuttin' roun' de street.
Youse better not be smudgin' up her dress, Carrots--gwan off, now! All
o' youse gwan an' let de lady 'lone. Me 'n' Hunkie's de on'y ones as she
wants roun'."

Dinney and Hunkie escorted Gloria to the end of the street and back.
Gloria returned on the opposite side with the idea of more thoroughly
exploring. But she might as well have kept to the one side; both sides
were alike in tenements and children--dreariness and poverty. There was
no choice. It was with a long breath of relief that Gloria emerged again
upon the main street. She filled her lungs with the cleaner air, and
gazed with a new admiration at the well-to-do buildings.

The grotesque little figure of Dinney tramping back into Treeless Street
with his rattling cart lurching behind him, was all that remained of
what seemed to Gloria now must have been a dream. She glanced up at
the street's name, at its juncture with the main street, and started
suddenly, in very astonishment. The name she read pointed playful,
jeering letters at her. She had always known there was a street in
Tilford by that name--but not this, _this_ street! Pleasant Street!
Gloria walked the rest of the way as in a dream.