een unable to
sleep, and had tormented himself with wishing he was "a big boy, and
could earn money for his poor mamma." No, indeed, she knew nothing of
any plans on his part. So she had kissed his sweet lips, sighed to
herself over his pale cheeks, and telling him that she would not be home
until afternoon, and he would find luncheon for himself and Fido all
fixed on the closet shelf, had gone out into the streets to look for
work from store to store.

But Ned knew what he had to do before mamma's return, and no sooner had
she gone than he brushed his curly head, made himself neat and clean,
and lifted his Scotch cap from its peg behind the door. That was the
signal for Fido to sit up on his hind-legs and beg, as Ned had long
before taught him, when preparing for a race in the street; and now he
not only begged, but thumped his bushy tail impatiently against the
floor, saying, dog fashion, "Come, _do_ hurry up." He didn't appear to
notice that his little master's face was sober this morning, and that
once two big tears gathered in the blue eyes which were usually such
merry eyes, as a boy's should be.

And finally, after Ned had written, in a very scrawly hand, "Dear mamma,
Fido and I are going to take a walk just a little while," and placed the
queer little note where his mother would see it if she came home before
him, the two friends went down the narrow stairs, and through the alley
into the street which led toward the City Hall. Fido looked inquiringly
into his master's face to see what could be the reason that he walked so
quietly along this morning, instead of, as heretofore, racing and
chasing his four-footed little comrade from block to block. But Ned was
swallowing several lumps in his throat, and had no heart for a frolic.

It was not long before the City Hall Square was reached; and a little
timidly, now that he was in so large and strange a place alone, Ned
seated himself upon the broad stone lower step of the great building,
and lifted Fido in his arms. Then he mustered courage, and cried,
feebly, although he fancied his voice was very loud and brave: "Anybody
want to buy a dog? Dog to sell. Want a dog?"

But nobody seemed to hear him, and the noise of the streets frightened
our poor little fellow into silence for a while. So he buried his face
in Fido's shaggy back, and tried not to cry.

"Oh, my doggie Fido!" he murmured, "you've truly got to be sold. Oh
dear! it is awfully hard, and I'll 'most die