Page:Stories told to a child.djvu/119

 'It's very cold and windy for you up here,' said the driver.

The man shivered, but did not complain; he looked about him with a bright glitter in his eyes, and every time he coughed he declared that he was much better than he had been.

After telling you so much about Could, his kind wishes, projects, and aspirations, I am almost ashamed to mention Can to you again; however, I think I will venture, though her aspirations, poor little thing, are very humble ones, and she scarcely knows what a project means.

So, you must know that having concluded most of her business, she entered a shop to purchase something for her dinner; and while she waited to be served a child entered, carrying a basket much too heavy for her strength, and having a shawl folded up on her arm.

'What have you in your basket?' asked Can.

'Potatoes for dinner,' said the child.

'It's very heavy for you,' remarked Can, observing how she bent under the weight of it.

'Mother's ill, and there's nobody to go to the shop but me,' replied the child, setting it down, and blowing her numbed fingers.

'No wonder you are cold,' said Can; 'why don't you put your shawl on instead of carrying it so?'

'It's so big,' said the child, in a piteous voice. 'Mother put a pin in it, and told me to hold it up; but I can't, the basket's so heavy, and I trod on it and fell down.'

'It's enough to give the child her death of cold,' Rh