“ CARROTS.”

“T don’t know, dear,” said her mother with
a little sigh.

““<T wish you could run about like us. That
would make you so hot,” said Carrots.

Mrs. Desart smiled. Just then her glance
happened to fall on Floss’s boots. « My dear
child,’ she said, “those boots are really not
fit to go out with. There is a great hole at
the side of one of them.”

“T know, mamma,” said Floss; «but they're

a good while longer if they’re mended. I
hope they will, for I know you always have so
many new things to get when winter begins
to come; haven’t you, mamma?”

Mrs. Desart sighed again.

“T should have liked all your things to be
so nice,” she said, more as if speaking to her-
self than to Floss, “but it can’t be helped.”

Something in her tone caught Floss’s at-
tention.

“Why, mamma?” she asked; « why did you
want our things to be so nice?”

ae

going to be mended. Nurse thinks they'll do.

as