can get some,' said Tilly's mother, as they sat by the fire.
'If my bird was only a fairy bird, and would give us three wishes, how nice it would be! Poor dear, he can't give me any thing; but it's no matter,' answered Tilly, looking at the robin, who lay in the basket with his head under his wing, a mere little feathery bunch.
'He can give you one thing, Tilly,—the pleasure of doing good That is one of the sweetest things in life; and the poor can enjoy it as well as the rich.'
As her mother spoke, with her tired hand softly stroking her little daughter's hair, Tilly suddenly started and pointed to the window, saying, in a frightened whisper,—
'I saw a face,—a man's face, looking in! It's gone now; but I truly saw it'
'Some traveller attracted by the light {{hws|per|perhaps}
