jolted out and dropped by the roadside. Though I called for help no one heard me. There I lay till a workman passing by, picked me up and took me home to his children.
“They were kind children enough, but not so kind as my gypsy child; they could never love me so well, for they had other dolls of their own, and presently they gave me away. So I passed from hand to hand, each time faring a little worse, until the last family with whom T lived changed house. They did not trouble to take me with them, so I was thrown out here, with the rest of the household rubbish, on the ash-heap.
“Still, I don’t complain, for I am used to freedom and independence; all that I learned with the gypsies has stood me in good stead, and as you see I have not wasted my time.”
“Indeed,” said Poor Cecco, looking about him, “you have made a very comfortable house here.”
The wooden doll smiled, for to tell the truth she felt not a little proud of her house, and was glad of some one to show it off to.
“It isn’t so bad,” she agreed, “and I must say there is always a living to be picked up in a place like this, especially by one who has been taught to use his wits. I even thought of starting a store here, if only there were some customers. No, the only thing I have against it is the loneliness. Just think, you are the only visitors I have received in all this time, unless you may count the
