ROSE was out in the garden with mamma. Rose ran here and there,
gathering the prettiest flowers to make into a bouquet for her. Rose
thought her mamma the loveliest and best mamma in the world. Nothing was
too good for her.
"O Mamma!" she cried breathlessly, running up after a long absence,
"there's a poor girl--outside the fence--over by the rustic chair. She
looks as though she wanted--something. She won't speak--Oh! come and see
here, mamma!"
"Poor child! Perhaps she is hungry," said mamma, rising quickly.
They found the child still looking wistfully through the fence. "Would
you like something to eat?" asked mamma kindly.
The bareheaded and barefooted little girl looked up into the sweet face
a moment, then said timidly, "Please, lady, give me some flowers."
"I'll give her mine," whispered Rose.
With a hurried, "Thanks, lady," she took the flowers and ran swiftly
away before another question could be asked.
"I wish I knew where she lived," said Rose.
"I will inquire. We may be able to help her."
[Illustration: ROSE AND THE LITTLE BEGGAR.]