away, searching every cross street for the special one she wanted.
They were all dismal streets for a little way, but none of them
were absolutely devoid of trees. Scanty grass-spots relieved their
dreariness, and the swarms of children were comfortably enough dressed.
It was some little time before Gloria reached Treeless Street, but when
she did, she knew it at once. Without hesitation she turned into it.

Topply tenement after tenement--was there no end to them? Was there no
end to the children with little old faces? Babies trundled other babies
in rickety carts; the clamor of sharp little voices filled the street.
Gloria, in a new world, threaded her way among the children and thought
her new thoughts. They were confused, unwelcome thoughts, but she
entertained them valiantly.

"Think of coming here every day, perhaps, and living right along!"

A small boy in grotesque man-trousers, reefed and rolled, intruded
himself and his baby-charge in her way. Gloria gazed down into the
boy's face with a sort of fascination. He was so small, yet had such a
protecting way with the baby.

"What is your name, little man?" she asked. "Dinney. What's the name o'
youse?"

Gloria ignored the question.

"Is this your little brother?" gently.

"Well, I guess!" said the boy.