“Cripple!” explained Teddy.
“I think it must be the little girl I meet on the street so often,” said Nunky. “I call her ‘Hop-clover.’ She has a very sweet face.”
“Her father’s an awful drunkard,” remarked Teddy.
“Well, he isn’t her truly papa, and she hasn’t any truly mamma. Her name’s Lucy-vindy, and she hasn’t anybody to take care of her but just God. I wish I could give her my pink dress,” begged Posy.
“We will see about that,” said mamma.
Next day it “rained so hard, the water couldn’t catch its breath;” but the little Pitchers were so eager for school, that their mother let them go. They marched off very proudly under an umbrella; while Teddy walked before them with the books, and Beppo behind with the dinner-pail.
“Hop-clover” carried her dinner too; but at noon, when she saw Posy giving Beppo a piece of cold lamb, she thought,—
“I ’most wish I was Posy Pitcher’s dog, so she’d give me some meat.”
“Where’s your dinner?” said Posy.