several repetitions of the summons, Ned began to grow impatient; and his little pot of passion quickly boiling over, he picked up a stone, with a naughty purpose to fling it through the window; at the same time blubbering and sputtering with wrath.

A man — one of two who happened to be passing by — caught the urchin’s arm.

“What’s the trouble, old gentleman?” he asked.

“I want old Hepzibah, or Phoebe, or any of them!” answered Ned, sobbing. “They won’t open the door; and I can’t get my elephant!”

“Go to school, you little scamp!” said the man. “There’s another cent-shop round the corner. ‘T is very strange, Dixey,” added he to his companion,