"Oh, thank you, thank you, ma'am!" cried Pollie, holding up her face to kiss the kind woman, who, totally unused to such affectionate gratitude in the poor little waifs about Drury Lane, bent down and returned the caress with a feeling of unwonted tenderness tugging at her heart.
"And now, please, I should like a bunch of water-cresses for Mrs. Flanagan," said the child. "I know she is very fond of them with her tea."
"What are you going to buy for yourself?" asked the shopkeeper, as, after handing Pollie the freshest bunch in the basket, she stood watching her tiny customer.
The little girl hesitated; at length she said—
"Well, if I don't get something, mother will want me to eat this meat, and I mean her to have it all; so I'll buy two little pies in Russell Court,—one for me, and one for poor little crippled Jimmy."
"You're a good gal," exclaimed the woman. "Here, put these taters in your basket; maybe your mother would like 'em with the meat, they boil nice and mealy."
Pollie was so grateful to Mrs. Smith for the kind thought, and held out her money to pay for this luxury; but to her surprise she told her to put it back into her pocket—the "taters" were a gift for her mother, and patting her cheek, bade her run home quickly, and always "be a good gal."