"If I hadn't lost the ten cents I had for car fare we might ride and tell the conductor to let us off when we got there," said Edna, naïvely.
Maggie laughed. She was sharper than Edna. "How'd ye know which car to take?"
"That's so," was the reply; "we'll have to ask a policeman."
"No! no!" cried Maggie. "I'm skeered o' the perlice."
"Then we'll go to that drug store and ask," concluded Edna, wisely; and with childlike confidence she turned to the shop in question.
"The 'Home of the Friendless,'" said the clerk, with a smile, as he looked at the queer little pair. "Let me see, I can soon tell you;" and he turned over the pages of a big book on the counter. "It is on Pearl Street, No. 342."
"Is it a long way?" asked Edna.
"It's pretty long to walk. You'd better ride."
"O no, we can't; we'll walk. I can, can't you, Maggie?"
"Sure," replied Maggie, forcibly, if not elegantly.