look when I presented them to him, holding them by the pretty blue wool which fastened them together. That his "petite mademoiselle" should think of him, and make him a present, too! and then that that present should be one that he could not anyhow use! It was fairly too much for him; he looked at them, he looked at me, turned furiously red, stammered, stuttered, turned round, and literally ran away!
I never tried to make him a second present.
MY HOME, AND WHAT IT WAS LIKE.
Now, do you know, I feel rather ashamed of myself that I have not all this while told you in the least who I was, or where I came from. I began in the middle by saying, "I want to go home," but never told you in the least where my home was, nor what it was.
Well, to tell you the truth, I did not know much about my family history in those early days. I knew that my name was Mary Emily Marshall, commonly called Sissy, and I knew that my papa was "the gentleman that makes all the sick peopl
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