And then began the search. Tea was delayed and they hunted the house over for her. Finally Mrs. Brown went out on a side porch seldom used, and there she found the little girl.
The child had brought a cushion to sit on, and clasped tightly in her arms were three of Ethel’s dolls. Mrs. Brown persuaded her to come in with the promise that she might keep the dolls.
So Ethel rang the bell, and they all marched in to tea again, with Nellie Day leading the line, holding her three dollies.
“Mamma,” said Ethel, as the little girls were going home, “may I give Nellie Day the dolls? I have so many and she has not one.”
“Yes indeed,” replied Mrs. Brown, as she kissed her little daughter. “I am sure it will make her very happy.”
And Nellie Day went home that night, the happiest little girl in the town.
TOWSER TALKS.
I am not a big dog and I don’t know very much, but I know more than I used to. The reason why I know more than I used to is because I asked Carlo some questions once. I asked him what made him so gaunt and thin and why he had such an enquiring expression on his face and such a hump on the top of his head. He didn’t answer right away, and—I noticed the enquiring expression vanished. He looked quite decided. Then something happened,—I don’t know exactly what, but Mary, the cook, told the butler that it made her dizzy just to look on. And then Carlo said:—
“One reason why I am gaunt and thin is because I am not a little up-start of a pug,—of no earthly use under Heaven, and nothing to do but waddle around and accumulate fat.