"We might try and help the gipsy-babies some day," he said softly.

"Yes, perhaps we might."

Curly was so far encouraged that he might have said more; but at that moment Hannah appeared with the glasses of milk and slices of cake that formed the children's supper these long summer days, and the opportunity for speech was lost. However, Curly felt that he had safely broken ground, and that there would be no serious opposition on Bunny's part to his pet scheme. More than that he did not expect just yet.

Molly was the next person he took into his confidence (for time was getting on and he must really see about the matter seriously), and her black eyes opened in astonishment as she heard the proposition.

"But nobody wouldn't have them, little master," she said. "Babies are a power of trouble—that they be."

"But I know some people who do want them," answered Curly with an air of importance that would have amused a less respectful listener than Molly. "It's some very nice people indeed, and they would like another little boy or two to play with their own; and I thought directly of your brown babies, and how much nicer it would be for them to go there than to stay here."

"Why, of course it would,' answered Molly,

real bad place, this

I'd be glad enough

with dilating eyes. This is a is, and our folks are bad too. to go away meself, if it weren't for Pat. Faith the babies would be better off with any folks sooner than mother. She was in liquor yesterday and beat all the children, every one that didn't get out of her way. She was wishing then she could be rid of them. It would be a foine thing for them to get took off."

66

They would have a nice home," said Curly, eagerly, “and I should often see them; and if you liked, I'd write to you and tell you how they got on. But would your mother let me have them ?"

"There's no reckoning on mother," answered Molly, gravely. "Some days she's quiet-like and almost kind, and then she gets mad entirely and goes on like a wild thing. But if the folks really came and talked to her about it, maybe she'd give them up. I'm sure she grumbles often enough at all the mouths there are to feed."

"Oh, but nobody will come-only me," said Curly. "I want her to let me have them, and I shall give them to the people for a birthday present, you know."

Molly's eyes opened wider than ever, and bit by bit she drew from Curly all the story. It

was not at all like what she had expected, but her Irish blood fired at the thought of rescuing her little brothers from a life of misery and degradation and settling them in a beautiful, peaceful home like the one she heard described. Curly with the utmost good faith vowed solemnly that he knew the people would be delighted to have the brown babies as an addition to their family; and that being the case, Molly was only too delighted to aid and abet by every means in her power.

"We won't speak to mother about it at all," she said in an energetic whisper. "I'll get the babies for you-why, if they were missing the whole day she would never trouble her head over them. You shall come for them, and I'll meet you and give them to you; and then byand-by, when she does ask, I'll tell her that they're being took care of by good folks, and she'll be glad enough to be rid of them. What

I'll have them

You can't carry

day will you come for them? clean washed and all ready. them yourself, they're powerful heavy. How can you take them away?"

I'll bring the donkey in the cart!" cried Curly, excitedly. "Don't say a word to anybody, Molly -not even to Pat or to my brother. I want it to be a great surprise. I'll come on Wednesday