m anybody; and
how the little motherless heart yearned for just one more warm loving
caress from the dear mother who "lived in the sky," as the child
expressed it! So when presently she saw a lady and child at the basement
window of the house opposite, she went over, and, kneeling at the
window, offered a box of matches for sale. The lady noticed the traces
of Madge's tears, and kindly inquired the cause as she bought and paid
for the matches. Little Madge replied:

"I was wanting to be kissed, ma'am, and wishing for my mother in heaven,
and I was so--so tired with looking for a lady who had her locket stole,
ma'am, and I watched where the girl hid it, and was goin' to take it
back, but I can't find the street, nor house, nor anything, ma'am; and I
wish I had a mother to hold me in her lap like you hold your little
girl. It must be nice to have a mother."

"Poor little girl!" said the lady, and then she suddenly added: "Come
inside, please. I'll let you in, and then I want you to go up stairs
with me."

Much astonished, Madge obeyed, and followed the lady up to a pleasant
room where a gentleman was at work amid easels, and half-finished
pictures, and the pretty confusion of an artist's studio.

"Edward, you wanted a model yesterday," said the lady. "Here's a child
who might do for your street picture. See, she carries her matches with
her--just the thing."

And so little Madge earned a whole silver dollar for half a day's
standing in one position before the artist, who was delighted with his
model, and made a charming likeness of her, matches, ragged dress, bare
feet, and all. The child left the locket with her new friend to be taken
care of until she might find the owner, and then went crying matches
through the streets, with a happy heart, little dreaming of what would
result from her morning's work.

Only a few days after that a visitor to the artist's studio was admiring
his latest picture, called "The Model Match Girl."

"What a strange title?" she said.

And he laughed as he replied: "Yes, I gave it that name to please my
wife, who brought me the girl. She was really a model in regard to
honesty." And then he told the story of the locket, and of the gratitude
of the little girl for the ice-cream the kind owner of the locket had
given her; and finally the locket was produced, and recognized by the
visitor as her own.

"It must have fallen from my chain while I talked to the child, and yet
the dishonest