Bessie and Her Friends

by Joanna H. Mathews

"Are you the little lady who was lost a couple of months ago?" she asked.

"No," said Maggie, at once interested, "that was our Bessie; but we found her again."

"Oh, yes, I know that. I heard all about her from Policeman Richards, who looked after her when she was up to the station."

"Bessie, Bessie!" called Maggie, "here's a woman that knows your station policeman. Come and look at her."

At this, Bessie came running from the inner room.

"Well," said the woman, laughing heartily, "it is nice to be looked at for the sake of one's friends when one is not much to look at for one's self."

"I think you're pretty much to look at," said Bessie. "I think you have a nice, pleasant face. How is my policeman?"

"He's well," said the stranger. "And so you call him your policeman; do you? Well, I shall just tell him that; I've a notion it will tickle him a bit."

"He's one of my policemen," said Bessie. "I have three,—one who helps us over the crossing; the one who found me when I came lost; and the one who was so good to me in his station-house."