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Mabel's ready tears began to flow.
"O dear! O dear!" she sobbed, "mamma is going to die! What shall we do?"
"Hush, Mabel!" said Edith. "If we ought not to play, why we'll stop; but there isn't any use in crying so. Do please hush this instant."
A quick step came down the walk. The children, looking up, saw the young lady who lived in the next house. She had a sunbonnet on her head, and a light shawl was thrown around her, and in her hand was a pretty little bark canoe, in which was her knitting-work.
"O Miss Rose, beautiful Miss Rose!" exclaimed Edith, "you're the very person we wanted to see."
"Mith Rothe, when thith canoe geth too old for you, you'll give it to me, won't you?" said Mabel, putting her hands lovingly up towards the fanciful basket.