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I once had a sweet little doll, dears,

The prettiest doll in the world; Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,

And her hair was so charmingly curled. But I lost my poor little doll, dears,

As I played on the heath one day; And I cried for her more than a week, dears,

But I never could find where she lay.

I found my poor little doll, dears,

As I played on the heath one day; Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,

For her paint is all washed away, And her arm's trodden off by the cows, dears,

And her hair's not the least bit curled; Yet for old sakes' sake, she is still, dears,

The prettiest doll in the world.



I Rosamond was a little girl about seven years old. She was walking with her mother in the streets of London.

As she passed along she looked in at the store windows. There she saw a great many things.

Of some she did not know the use and of others not even the names.

Rosamond wished to stop and look at all these things, but she was afraid to let go her mother's hand.

“Oh, mother, how happy I should be,” she said as she passed a toy-shop, “if I had all these pretty things!”

“What, all! Do you wish for them all, Rosamond?”

“Yes, mother, all.”

They went on a little farther, and came to a jeweler's shop. There were bright jewels, and pretty buckles behind the glass.

“Mother, will you buy some of these?”

“I have a pair of buckles. I do not want another pair,” said her mother and walked on.

Rosamond was very sorry that her mother wanted nothing. Presently they came to a shop more beautiful than the rest. It was a drug store, but she did not know that.

“Oh, mother, oh !” cried she, “look, look! blue, green, red, yellow and purple ! Won't you buy some of these vases ?”

Still her mother answered as before, “ Of what use would they be to me, Rosamond ?”

“You might put flowers in them. They would look so pretty in the dining-room.”


“You have a vase for flowers,” said her mother. “Perhaps if you were to examine these you would not want them.”

“Oh, yes, I should,” and Rosamond kept her head turned to look at a purple jar till she could see it no longer. “Then, mother,” said she, after a pause, “perhaps you have no money.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Dear, me, if I had money I would buy roses and buckles and purple vases and everything.” Rosamond stopped in the middle of her speech.

“Oh, mother, I have a stone in my shoe. It hurts me very much.”

“ How came there to be a stone in your shoe?”

“ Because of this great hole. My shoes are quite worn out. I wish you would be so very good as to give me another pair.”

“No, Rosamond. I have not money enough to buy shoes and buckles and purple jars and everything.”



Rosamond's foot which had been hurt by the stone, began to pain her very much.

They came to a shoemaker's shop soon afterwards. “There, there, mother, those shoes would just fit me! You know shoes would be really of use to me.” “Yes, so they would, Rosamond. Come in.”

The shop was full of people, so they had to wait. “Rosamond, you don't think this shop so pretty as the rest ?”

“No. It is dark in here. But there is a pair of little shoes. They will just fit me, I am sure.”

“Perhaps they might. You can not be sure till you have tried them on. Which would you rather have, the purple jar or the shoes? I will buy either for you.”

“Dear mother, thank you—but could you buy both ? "

“No, not both.”
“Then the jar, if you please.”

“But I should tell you in that case I shall not give you another pair of shoes this month. Choose what would make you happy.”

“The month will soon be over. I'm sure the purple jar would make me happy, so I choose it."

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