One woman stood on an iron balcony, lowered a basket by a long rope
As Molly and May watched the preparations for dinner on the little balcony, May suddenly cried, "Look! Look! They have a big dog up there!"
"No, that is not a dog, it is a goat," said her father. "I suppose it lives up there with the family and gives them milk every day. That family must have more money than most of the people who live on this street. They eat snail soup for dinner, they have a balcony in front of their window, and they keep a goat."
"Perhaps the little boy's father owns one of these small shops and makes lots of money selling macaroni, or soup, or onions, or bread, or flowers, or roasted chestnuts," said May.
"Well, shall we buy our dinner here, or shall we go to the hotel for it?" asked their father. "Wouldn't you like some snail soup, or macaroni, or onions for dinner?"
"Oh, no, no!" cried both Molly and May. "We are hungry, but we don't want snail soup or onions."
So they hurried back to their carriage and were soon driving rapidly up the hill to a fine hotel, where they were to stay for several days.
