; and the winds, indignant
at its presumption, would rush down the chimney at a more desperate rate
than usual, blowing the ashes into Maggie's eyes, as she sat before the
little fire, and sending the smoke curling in funny forms about the
room. So Maggie would run and cover herself in her poor bed, and say to
herself that it was a comfort to have ashes and smoke; for, though they
did blow in her eyes, still they came from the fire. Sometimes she would
gather up sawdust, and by this fire she was able to warm her feet a
little, though not much; for, as fast as she warmed them, the winds
blew down again, so they were as cold as before.

You see it was a cold kind of a place in which Maggie lived; so cold
that, although it was summer, still a good many people's hearts were
frozen quite stiff, so their friends despaired of their ever being
thawed out; and their tongues too were affected, so they could not speak
gentle, kind words. I don't mean to say the cold ever dealt quite so
shabbily by Maggie or Maggie's mother, which was rather strange,
perhaps, since they could have but little fire; and the frost could walk
very boldly in through the cracks all about the house. Still it was
almost as bad that such things should happen to their neighbors, as
every one knows it is uncomfortable to behold such misery.

Beside the chimney-place and bed, Maggie had some cracked plates and
saucers, which she arranged on the chimney-shelf, and some bits of
china, which she had found in piles of rubbish, and which she thought
very beautiful. Now the chimney-shelf was very high, and she managed to
put these things up there by climbing up the bed-post, which was rather
a dangerous thing for her to do, and as it was a very little difficult,
too, she did not often take down those things.

Now those cracked plates and saucers, and bits of china, were all the
ornaments Maggie had for her house; and they were very precious to her.
She would sit and look at them, _wondering_ what people did who hadn't
got any, and thinking how strange it would seem there in her house if
they were taken away. You see Maggie knew how to prize little things;
and so some day great ones may fall to her.

I did wrong to say she lived all alone; for she had a beautiful white
Dove. Wasn't it nice? It was very white, and nestled close in Maggie's
bosom when she carried it out of the house, and in the night it lay
close to her heart. O, there was nothing Maggie prized like