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Jensina
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rats, who are really of another class—neighbourly, but rowdy in their habits and by no means to be trusted. In fact, they think nothing of dropping in here and helping themselves to whatever they choose, claiming that everything in the field belongs to them. I have thought many times of moving, if only for the sake of change. Besides, I come of a gypsy family, and that always makes it hard to stay in one place.”

“Why don’t you join us?’ asked Poor Cecco. “We are out to see the world, and it would be pleasant to have another companion.”

And Bulka, who all this while had been silent, licking the last of the canned salmon from his paws, said at once: “Yes, do!”

Jensina agreed—she was really tired of living alone on the ash-heap—and being a person of action, at once set about packing up, with the help of Poor Cecco, those belongings which she especially treasured. These were a green glass scent bottle stopper, the half of a broken silver brooch, the top of a catsup bottle which made an excellent drinking-cup and one other small object wrapped in silver-paper, which she would not show him. “For this,” as she said, “this is a secret which I dare not tell, even to you!”

To these Poor Cecco added his four pennies, and then, taking off her frock for greater freedom in walking, Jensina tied the things up in it, making a neat bundle which Poor Cecco willingly offered to carry.