Two Little Waifs

Well, dears, she said, and what are you playing at? —Page 4.
AUTHOR OF 'CARROTS,' 'CUCKOO CLOCK,' 'TELL ME A STORY'
Two small figures, hurrying along hand-in-hand, caught the attention of several people.—Page 166.
It would both have excited your pity, and have done your heart good, to have seen how these two little ones were so fond of each other, and how hand-in-hand they trotted along.
The Renowned History of Goody Two-Shoes.

It's what comes in our heads when we Play at 'Let's-make-believe,' And when we play at 'Guessing.' Charles Lamb.
It was their favourite play. Gladys had invented it, as she invented most of their plays, and Roger was even more ready to play at it than at any other, ready though he always was to do anything Gladys liked or wanted. Many children would have made it different—instead of going over the sea to Papa, they would have played at what they would do when Papa should come over the sea to them. But that was not what they had learnt to look forward to, somehow—they were like two little swallows, always dreaming of a sunny fairyland they knew not where, only over the sea, and in these dreams and plays they found the brightness and happiness which they were still too young to feel should have been in their everyday baby life.
For Mamma was a word that had no real meaning to them. They thought of her as of a far-away beautiful angel—beautiful, but a little frightening too; cold and white like the marble angels in church, whose wings looked so soft, till one day Roger touched them, and found them, to his strange surprise, hard and icy, which made him tell Gladys that he thought hens much prettier than angels. Gladys looked a little shocked at this, and whispered to remind him that he should not say that: had he forgotten that the angels lived up in heaven, and were always good, and that Mamma was an angel? No, Roger had not forgotten, and that was what made him think about angels; but they weren't pretty and soft like Snowball, the little white hen, and he was sure he would never like them as much. Gladys said no more to him, for she knew by the tone of his voice that it would not take very much to make him cry, and when Roger got that way, as she called it, she used to try to make him forget what had troubled him.