People in our way of life, ma'am--as I've often heard Peggy Burke say--are obliged to dry the tear at their eyes long before it's gone from their hearts.

But pray don't think, sir, I mean that now about myself and in your company.

If I _do_ feel low at talking of little Mary's misfortune, I can take a look out into the garden there, and see how happy she is--and that's safe to set me right again." "I ought to tell you first, sir," proceeded the clown's wife, after waiting thoughtfully for a moment or two before she spoke again, "that I got on much better with little Mary than ever I thought I should for the first six years of her life.

She grew up so pretty that gentlefolks was always noticing her, and asking about her; and nearly in every place the circus went to they made her presents, which helped nicely in her keep and clothing.

And our own people, too, petted her and were fond of her.
All those six years we got on as pleasantly as could be.