Why was it right for her to die ?" "It _was_ right, dear," said Pink, gently; "that is all we can know.
'Why' isn't answered in this world.

My granny used to say,-- "'Never lie! Never pry! Never ask the reason why!'" Hilda shook her head, and was about to reply earnestly; but at this moment Bubble came bounding back with something in his arms,--something covered with an old shawl; something alive, which did not like the shawl, and which struggled, and made plaintive little noises, which the boy tried vainly to repress.
[Illustration: "'SAY, MISS HILDY,--DO YOU LIKE PURPS ?'"] "Say, Miss Hildy," he cried, eagerly, "do ye like--be still, ye critter; hesh, I tell ye!--do you like purps ?" "'Purps,' Bubble ?" repeated Hilda, wonderingly.

"What are they?
And what have you there,--your poor old cat?
Let her go! For shame, you naughty boy!" "Puppies, he means," whispered Pink.
"'Cause if ye do," cried the breathless Bubble, still struggling with his shrouded captive, "I've got one here as--Wal, thar! go 'long, ye pesky critter, if ye _will_!" for the poor puppy had made one frantic effort, and leaped from his arms to the ground, where it rolled over and over, a red and green plaid mass, with a white tail sticking out of one end.

On being unrolled, it proved to be a little snow-white, curly creature, with long ears and large, liquid eyes, whose pathetic glance went straight to Hilda's heart.
"Oh, the little darling!" she cried, taking him up in her arms; "the pretty, pretty creature! Is he really for me, Bubble?
Thank you very much.

I shall love him dearly, I know." "I'm glad ye like him," said Bubble, looking highly gratified.