"Oh, I'm so cold and miserable and hungry," said the mousie girl, wiping away her tears.
"Then why don't you go home and get warm and have something to eat," said Jumpo. "That's what we do when we're cold and hungry, don't we, Jacko?"
"Yes, but there is no fire in my house," said the poor little mousie girl, "and there is nothing to eat."
"Why not?" asked Jacko, surprised like, and he felt in his pockets once more, to see if he had his money safe.
"Because we are too poor," answered the mousie girl. "My papa is sick with the epizootic, and my mamma has the rheumatism so bad that she can't take in washing, and we are so cold and miserable! My little brother sells papers, telling the mouse people about cheese and crackers, and how to keep out of traps, but his toes got so cold, because he had no shoes, that he can't sell papers any more.
"So I started out to sell matches, but I dropped them in a barrel of water, and no one wants to buy wet matches, you know. Oh, hoo, boo! Boo, hoo! How cold and miserable and hungry I am!" and she cried, oh so sadly.
Jacko and Jumpo thought for a minute. Then Jacko pulled his brother to one side.
"Look here," said Jacko, blinking his eyes, "we've got to do something for that mousie girl."
"That's right," said Jumpo, sniffing his nose.
"I—I don't care much about an automobile, anyhow, do you?" asked Jacko.