"You can have it," said Mildred, "for your own."

"Oh! For my own? My very own?" exclaimed the cripple, her whole face lit up. Mildred nodded.

"Oh! I never thought I should have a rose for my own, for my very own," she declared, holding it against her cheek, looking at it, smelling it and caressing it all at once, whilst Mildred looked on with open-eyed wonder and enjoyment.

Mildred asked a great many questions, and Molly told her all she knew about herself. She had been lying there in that little room for years without ever going out, and she had never seen the country. Mildred learned all about her life there; about the birds outside and the bird in the cage. Mildred could see it from the window when she climbed upon the bed. She thought of the roses in her garden and of the birds that sang around her home, flying about among the trees, and to think that Molly had never seen them! Her heart ached. It dawned upon her that maybe she could arrange to have her see it. She asked what she would rather have than anything in the world.

"In the whole world?" asked Molly.

"Yes, in the whole world."

Molly thought profoundly. "I would rather have that bird out there in the cage," she said.

Mildred was surprised and a little disappointed.

"Would you?" she asked, almost in a whisper. "Well, I will ask my mamma to give me some money to buy it for you. I've got to go now."

Roy, who had been asleep, suddenly opened his eyes and looked lazily at her. He crawled a little closer up to Molly and went asleep again.

"Here," said Molly, "take this."

She pulled out of her little store inside the bed where she kept her treasures concealed a little bundle. It was her doll's wardrobe. Mildred opened it.

"Why, how beautiful! Where did you get it? It would just fit one of my new dolls."

"I made it," said Molly.

"You did? I wish I could make anything like that," said Mildred, admiring the beautiful work.

"Would you mind something?" Molly asked, timidly. "Would you let me kiss you?" She looked at her pathetically.

Mildred leaned over and kissed the poor little pale lips.

"Thank you," said Molly, with a flush on her pale cheeks.

"Good-bye. I will come again," said Mildred, gravely. The eyes of the crippled girl brightened.

"Oh! will you! Thank you."

Mildred leaned over and kissed her again.

As she walked down the dark stairs and out of the narrow damp street into the sunlight she seemed to enter a new world. It came to her how different her lot was, not only from that of the poor little crippled girl lying in that dark prison up that rickety stair, but from many and many others who wanted nearly everything she had in such abundance. She almost trembled to think how ungrateful and complaining she had been, and a new feeling seemed to take possession of her.

VI.

During the hour of Mildred's absence there had been great excitement at her home. They thought she was lost, and they were all hunting for her everywhere when she walked in with her little bundle in her hand. She might ordinarily have been punished for going off without permission, but now they were all too glad to see her back, and she had such a good excuse. Even Mammy confined herself to grumbling just a little. Mildred rushed to her mother's room and told her everything about her visit—about Molly and everything connected with her. She drew so graphic a picture of the little cripple's condition that her mother at once had a basket of food prepared and ordered her carriage. Mildred begged to go with her, so they set out at once. She had taken notice of the house, and, after driving up one or two streets, they found the right one. She asked her mother to let her carry the basket. When they entered the room Mildred's mother found it even worse than Mildred had pictured it; but a half hour's vigorous work made a great change, and that night, for the first time in many years, Molly slept in a clean bed and in as much comfort as her poor little broken body would admit.

That night Mildred could hardly sleep for happiness. She had the money to buy the mocking-bird. Inquiry was made next day on the street where Mildred described the bird as being. It was found that the only bird on the block belonged to a Mrs. Johnson, "a widow lady who took in sewing." She lived in the third story back room of a certain house and had not been there very long, so no one could tell anything about her except that she owned "a mocker." This, however, was all that was needed, and Mildred was promised that next morning the bird should be bought and she should be allowed to take it to Molly with her own hands. She planned just the way in which she would surprise her.

Next morning a servant was sent around to buy the bird. When he returned Mildred's high hopes were all dashed to the ground. The owner did not wish to sell the bird. The money was doubled and the servant was sent back. The answer came back: "The bird was not for sale." Mildred was grievously disappointed. She could not help crying.

"Send to the dealer's and buy two birds," said her father.

"Perhaps the bird is a pet," suggested her mother gently.

Mildred thought Molly did not want any bird—she wanted that one, though she herself did not understand just why, unless it was that she knew that one could sing.

"Then Molly is unreasonable," said Mildred's father.

Mildred was unreasonable, too. If Molly did not want any other bird she did not want it either. She persuaded her mammy to walk around through the street where the woman with the mocking-bird lived. She knew the house. Just as she passed it the door opened and a woman came down the steps with a bundle. She was dressed in black and looked very poor, but she also looked very kind, and Mildred, who was gazing at the door as she came out, asked her timidly:—"Do you know Mrs. Johnson?"

"Why, I am one Mrs. Johnson," she said. "Whom do you mean?"

"The lady that has the mocking-bird," said Mildred.

"I have a mocking-bird."

"Have you? I mean the lady that has a mocking-bird and won't sell it," said Mildred, sadly.

The woman looked down at her kindly and for a moment did not answer. Then she said:—"What do you know about it?"

"I wanted to buy it," said Mildred.

"I am sorry I could not sell it to you," said Mrs. Johnson kindly. "The bird is all the company I have, and besides I don't think it is well. It has not been singing much lately."

"Hasn't it?" asked Mildred. "I wanted it for Molly. She wants it."

"Who is Molly?"

"The little crippled girl that lives around that way." She pointed. "She lies at a window away, way up. You can almost see her out of your window where the cage hangs. She saw the bird from her window where she lies and that's the reason she wants it."

The woman looked down at the little girl thoughtfully. The big eyes were gazing up at her with a look of deep trouble in them.

"You can have the bird," she said suddenly. "Wait, I will get it." And before Mildred could take in her good fortune she had gone back into the house, and a second later she brought down the cage.

Mildred had not just understood that it was to be brought her then, and a new difficulty presented itself.

"But I haven't any money," she said.

"I don't want any money," said the poor lady.

"But I can send it to you."

"I don't want any; I give it to you."

Mildred was not sure that she ought to accept the bird this way. "Do you think mamma would mind it?" she asked earnestly.

"Not if she ever had a crippled child," said the woman.

"She had. But I'm well now," said Mildred.

She took the cage and bore it down the street, talking to her mammy of the joy Molly would have when she took the bird to her. The poor woman suddenly turned and went back into the house and up the stairs, and a second later was leaning out of the