BOBBIT’S HOTEL. 49

“¢ Puppies,”’ said the policeman, letting sunlight in, “ froze
up here over night. A batch of pup— Hal—loo!”

For his shovel struck hard on something, and it was not a
puppy. It was the little hotel-keeper on his white pillow-
case, asleep and cold; so sound asleep and so cold that
neither the policeman nor the butcher nor Harum nor Scarum
could wake him, though they tried their best for an hour.

‘“‘ He give them other young uns the warmth of the whole
freezing concern!” said the policeman, talking very fast.
“That ’s what I call g-r-it!”

Harum and Scarum called it a pity. They did not know
what else to call it.

“ A norful pity!” said Harum, as they were marched off
to the Little Wanderer’s Home.

“« Where ’s he gone to ?”’ whispered Scarum, looking fright-
ened. .

“ Purrgetorry, mebbe,” suggested Harum.

“ Will he kape hotel in Purrgetorry ?’”’ asked Scarum, after
a very little very stupid thought.

“Tt ’s the praste as knows. I doant,” said Harum.

Now Scarum was thinking a very curious thing. “If he
keeps hotel in Purrgetorry,” said Scarum to himself, “ I hope
they ’ll give him tree cumf’t’bles, and coald beans every day,
jist.” But he did not think about it long enough to say it;
and he would n’t have known how to say it, if he had. Be-
sides, that is the end of the story.

3 D