almost unreal. One scarcely believed in the existence of Miss Minchin and Miss Amelia and the schoolroom, and the roll of wheels in the square seemed a sound belonging to another existence.
“Oh, Sara!” cried Lottie, cuddling in her guarding arm. “I like this attic—I like it! It is nicer than downstairs!”
“Look at that sparrow,” whispered Sara. “I wish I had some crumbs to throw to him.”
“I have some!” came in a little
almost unreal. One scarcely believed in the existence of Miss Minchin and Miss Amelia and the schoolroom, and the roll of wheels in the square seemed a sound belonging to another existence.
“Oh, Sara!” cried Lottie, cuddling in her guarding arm. “I like this attic—I like it! It is nicer than downstairs!”
“Look at that sparrow,” whispered Sara. “I wish I had some crumbs to throw to him.”
“I have some!” came in a little
