most beautiful little curly white puppy that Margie had ever seen. Such a darling little round, pink-nosed, bundle of white floss that she fairly screamed with delight.
"Oh, is it for me? Did Papa really get it for me? Oh, you dear, dear little doggie!" and she held out her arms for it.
The man put it gently into them. "I'm glad you were out here," he said, "for I didn't know how I was going to find you. I lost the card your papa gave me, that told me where to bring it; but I remembered your first name, because my little girl's name is Margie, too; and beside, your papa said that your hair was as fine and curly as this little fellow's, only that it was yellow instead of white. I knew that the card said this street, but I don't believe that I would ever have found the place if you hadn't been out here. It's pretty dark for you to be here alone, weren't you afraid?"
The puppy was nestling his warm curly head close into Margie's neck and the little girl hugged him tight and looked up at the black bearded man, happily. "I was a little bit
