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Then it was that the crusty man showed how he appreciated my girl’s good manners, for he hooked his cane in the strap, and gave it to her, saying, with a smile that lighted up his rough face like sunshine,–

“Hold on to that, my dear.”

“Ah,” thought I, “how little we can judge from appearances! This grim old soul is a gentleman, after all.”

Turning her face towards us, the girl held on to the stout cane, and swayed easily to and fro as we bumped over the rails. The Irishwoman’s baby, a sickly little thing, was attracted by the flowers, and put out a small hand to touch them, with a wistful look at the bright face above.

“Will baby have some?” said my girl, and made the little creature happy with some gay red leaves.

“Bless your heart, honey, it’s fond he is of the like o’ them, and seldom he gets any,” said the mother, gratefully, as she settled baby’s dirty hood, and wrapped the old shawl round his feet.

Baby stared hard at the giver of posies, but his honest blue eyes gave no offence, and soon the two were so friendly that baby boldly clutched at the bright buttons on her sack, and crowed with delight when he got one, while we all smiled at the pretty play, and were sorry when the little lady, with a bow and a smile to us, got out at the church corner.

“Now, I shall probably never see that child again, yet what a pleasant picture she leaves in my memory!” I thought to myself, as I caught a last glimpse of the brown hat going round the corner.

But I did see her again many times that winter; for not long after, as I passed down a certain street near my winter quarters, I came upon a flock of girls, eating their luncheon as they walked to and fro on the sunny side,–pretty, merry creatures, all laughing and chattering at once, as they tossed apples from hand to hand, munched candy, or compared cookies. I went slowly, to enjoy the sight, as I do when I meet a party of sparrows on the Common, and was wondering what would become of so many budding women, when, all of a sudden, I saw my little school-girl.

Yes, I knew her in a minute, for she wore the same brown hat, and the rosy face was sparkling with fun, as she told secrets with a chosen friend, while eating a wholesome slice of bread-and-butter as only a hungry school-girl could.

She did not recognize me, but I took a good look at her as I went by, longing to know what the particular secret was that ended in such a gale of laughter.

After that, I often saw my girl as I took my walks abroad, and one day could not resist speaking to her when I met her alone; for usually her mates clustered round her like bees about their queen, which pleased me, since it showed how much they loved the sunshiny child.

I had a paper of grapes in my hand, and when I saw her coming, whisked out a handsome bunch, all ready to offer, for I had made up my mind to speak this time. She was reading a paper, but looked up to give me the inside of the walk.

Before her eyes could fall again, I held out the grapes and said, just as I had heard her say more than once to a schoolmate at lunch-time, “Let’s go halves.”

She understood at once, laughed, and took the bunch, saying with twinkling eyes,–

“Oh, thank you! they are beauties!”

Then, as we went on to the corner together, I told her why I did it, and recalled the car-ride.

“I’d forgotten all about that, but my conductor is very kind, and always waits for me,” she said, evidently surprised that a stranger should take an interest in her small self.