a certain pang of hope, as she
answered.

"If I could make somebody comfortable that I know of;--a poor, _good_
girl, who is not comfortable at all."

"One of your sisters?"

"O no, ma'am; no relation."

"What is the matter with her, and how could you make her comfortable?"

"She is a very poor girl," said Matilda, so eager that she did not know
what to bring out first;--"she lives in a cellar room with a wet mud
floor, and no bed to sleep on that is like a bed; of course she cannot
be very clean, nor have any comfort at all; and I should like to make
them comfortable."

"Who is she?"

"A very poor girl, that goes to Sunday school. But she is very good."

"Does she live there alone?"

"O there are three of them; her mother and little brother."

"Then why does not the mother earn money and live better?"

"She works for it; she sews; but the people give her almost nothing for
her work; and Sarah sweeps a crossing."

"How did you come to know all this?"

"I saw Sarah in Sunday school; and I heard about her from my teacher,
and he shewed me the place where she lives. He knows she is good."

"And what do you want to do for her?"

"I want to get her out of that place, and into a decent room, and give
her a comfortable bed."

"What is her name?"

"Sarah Staples."

"How long would she keep decent, do you think?"

"Always," said Matilda confidently. "I am sure she would be just as
nice as she possibly could. Where she is, she has no chance."

"Well, go; the witch will look into it."

Matilda went out, hardly knowing what to think, or whether she might
hope anything from this very doubtful interview. Just as she reached
the door, she was called back.

"Have you no wishes for yourself, little girl?"

"No, ma'am; thank you."

"Is there nothing in the world you would like?"

"I suppose, a great many things," said Matilda; "but I have got so many
now, I am afraid to wish."

"Why?"

"I don't think I _ought_ to wish for anything more, for myself."

"You are the first person I ever saw, young or old, who put an 'ought'
before his wishes. Most people put it after them. Well, as a reward,
tell the one more thing, for yourself, that you would wish for if you
could have it."

Matilda thought, and hesitated. She did not at all like to tell her
thought. At last the witch urged her to speak out and be quick.

"If I were to choose--and wish for anything more," Matilda said
slowly,--"which I don't; but i