The child looked; and saw a little girl driving a goat; while large tears trickled down her cheeks, and moistened her tattered dress. For a moment, Little One's heart ceased aching with its own troubles.

"What is your name, little girl?" said she: "and why do you weep?"

"My name is Poor Dorel," replied the child; "my father and mother are long since dead; and I have nothing to eat but goat's milk and strawberries:" and, as she spoke, the large tears started afresh.

"Poor Dorel! you are the first one I ever saw who had as much trouble as I. I, too, have lost a father and mother."

"Were they a king and queen?" asked Dorel, wiping her eyes, and gazing at Little One's beautiful dress and glittering ornaments.

"They loved me dearly," replied Little