e too; _she_ would have chosen that one, she
said to herself.

The lady had gone into the shop and bought the doll, and Poppy watched
the happy little girl walk away with it in her arms. And then poor Poppy
went into a dark corner under the Bar, and cried a little to herself
before she went on to school. If only _her_ mother had money enough to
buy her a wax doll!

But on the day Poppy's presents came she did not even stop for a moment
to look at the wax dolls. What stupid creatures they seemed to her now!
_Her_ babies could open and shut their eyes, and none of these dolls
could do that.

_Her_ babies could move, and yawn, and cry, and kick; they were far
better than dolls.

And mother said God had sent them! He must have known how much she had
wanted one of those wax dolls, Poppy thought.

CHAPTER II.

POPPY'S WORK.

Poppy's work soon began in good earnest. Her mother had to go out to
work, and whilst she was away there was no one but Poppy to take care of
the babies. She liked her work very much at first. Their eyes were as
blue as those of the wax dolls in the shop window, and their hair was
quite as pretty.

But, as the days went by, Poppy could not help wishing that her babies
would sometimes be as quiet as the row of dolls in the shop under the
Bar. Poppy's babies were never quiet, except when they were asleep, and
unfortunately it was very seldom that they were both asleep at the same
time. Poor little Poppy! her small arms ached very often as she carried
those restless babies, and sometimes she felt so tired she thought she
must let them fall.

Oh, how they cried! Sometimes they went on hour after hour without
stopping. And then at length, one baby would fall asleep quite tired
out, but no sooner did its weary little cry cease than the other one
would scream more loudly than before, and would wake it up again.

There was no end to Poppy's work. She was warming milk and filling
bottles,--she was pacing up and down the room,--she was singing all the
hymns she had learned at school to soothe them to sleep,--she was
nursing and patting, and rocking her babies from morning till night.

Brave little Poppy! The tears would come in her eyes sometimes, when the
babies were more cross than usual, and she would think how nice it would
be to feel rested sometimes; she was always so tired now. But she never
gave up her work; she would not have left her babies for the world; she
loved them through it a