"Just the way we've learned a lot about babies in the last six months from this little teacher!" added Ethel Brown.
"Come, come. Home, home," remarked Elisabeth insistently.
"What's the matter? Are your leggies tired? Want the Ethels to carry you?"
Elisabeth made it known that she would like some such method of transportation, and sat joyfully on a "chair" which the two girls made by interclasping their wrists.
Not for long did this please her ladyship.
"Down, down," she demanded in a few minutes.
"We might as well go home if she's too tired to walk and too restless to ride," decided Ethel Brown, and they turned about, to the evident pleasure of the baby.
As they were returning along Church Street but were still at a distance from Dorothy's house Elisabeth suddenly gave a chirrup of delight. The Ethels looked about to see the cause of this unexpected expression of joy. Crawling out through a hedge on to the sidewalk was a child of about Elizabeth's age, but a thin and dirty little mite, with a face that betrayed her race as Irish.
"What's this morsel doing here all by herself!" exclaimed Ethel Blue.
"She must have run away; or perhaps she isn't alone. Let's look about for her mother."