o calm her maternal yearnings in some
slight degree.

By the way, that name reminds us of our having omitted to mention that
baby Frog's real name was Matilda, and her pet name Matty, so that the
name of Mita, fixed on by the Twitters, was not so wide of the mark as
it might have been.

One night Mrs Frog, feeling the yearning strong upon her, put on her
bonnet and shawl--that is to say, the bundle of dirty silk, pasteboard,
and flowers which represented the one, and the soiled tartan rag that
did duty for the other.

"Where are ye off to, old woman?" asked Ned, who, having been recently
successful in some little "job," was in high good humour.

"I'm goin' round to see Mrs Tibbs, Ned. D'you want me?"

"No, on'y I'm goin' that way too, so we'll walk together."

Mrs Frog, we regret to say, was not particular as to the matter of
truth. She had no intention of going near Mrs Tibbs, but, having
committed herself, made a virtue of necessity, and resolved to pay that
lady a visit.

The conversation by the way was not sufficiently interesting to be
worthy of record. Arrived at Twitter's street an idea struck Mrs Frog.

"Ned," said she, "I'm tired."

"Well, old girl, you'd better cut home."

"I think I will, Ned, but first I'll sit down on this step to rest a
bit."

"All right, old girl," said Ned, who would have said the same words if
she had proposed to stand on her head on the step--so easy was he in his
mind as to how his wife spent her time; "if you sit for half-an-hour or
so I'll be back to see you 'ome again. I'm on'y goin' to Bundle's shop
for a bit o' baccy. Ain't I purlite now? Don't it mind you of the
courtin' days?"

"Ah! Ned," exclaimed the wife, while a sudden gush of memory brought
back the days when he was handsome and kind,--but Ned was gone, and the
slightly thawed spring froze up again.

She sat down on the cold step of a door which happened to be somewhat in
the shade, and gazed at the opposite windows. There was a light in one
of them. She knew it well. She had often watched the shadows that
crossed the blind after the gas was lighted, and once she had seen some
one carrying something which looked like a baby! It might have been a
bundle of soiled linen, or undarned socks, but it might have been Matty,
and the thought sent a thrill to the forlorn creature's heart.

On the present occasion she was highly favoured, for, soon after Ned had
left, the shadows came again on the blind,