ons are very proud, they'll be humiliated.

"So I thought," she added, wisely, "that as we don't need the wagon any
more, we could sell it. Now that you are ill, no one will let me take
their pictures, and even if they would we have not the money to buy the
things for developing that we need. We must sell it."

"And how much can we get for it?"

"We can get something; then there is the camera and the mattress."

"Everything," said the sick woman.

"But you don't mind, do you, mother, dear?..."

"We have lived in this wagon for more than a year," said her mother;
"your father died here, and although it's a poor thing, it makes me sad
to part with it.... It is all that remains of him ... there is not one
of these old things here that does not remind us of him...."

She stopped, gasping; the tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh, forgive me, mother, for speaking about it," cried Perrine.

"My darling, you are right. You are only a child, but you have thought
of the things that I should have. I shall not be better tomorrow nor the
next day, and we must sell these things, and we must decide to sell...."

The mother hesitated. There was a painful silence.

"Palikare," said Perrine at last.

"You have thought that also?" asked the mother.

"Yes," said Perrine, "and I have been so unhappy about it, and sometimes
I did not dare look at him for fear he would guess that we were going to
part with him instead of taking him to Maraucourt with us. He would have
been so happy there after such a long journey."

"If we were only sure of a welcome, but they may turn us away. If they
do, all we can do then is to lie down by the roadside and die, but no
matter what it costs, we must get to Maraucourt, and we must present
ourselves as well as we can so that they will not shut their doors upon
us...."

"Would that be possible, mama?... The memory of papa ... he was so good.
Could they be angry with him now he is dead?"

"I am speaking as your father would have spoken, dear ... so we will
sell Palikare. With the money that we get for him we will have a doctor,
so that I can get stronger; then, when I am well enough, we will buy a
nice dress for you and one for me, and then we'll start. We will take
the train as far as we can and walk the rest of the way."

"That boy who spoke to me at the Gates told me that Palikare was a fine
donkey, and he knows, for he is in a circus. It was because he thought
Palikare was so beautifu