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"Yes," roughly replied a brown-faced the hot and heavy tears one by one. countryman, and passed on.

It was afternoon. The child was somewhat fragile in her appearance. Her bonnet was of broken straw, her shoes were much torn; the sun played hotly on her forehead. She walked on and on an hour longer.

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for?

Why, yes, you poor little goose!
What are you going to
Have you had your supper?"
Katy shook her head.

"Have you had your dinner?" Again the sad child shook her head. "Nor breakfast? Why, George, the poor little thing must be almost

Yes, little girl; but what are you starved!" going there for?"

"I should think so," mechanically replied her brother, just recovering from a yawn, and showing signs of sympathy.

The child trudged on, her lip quivering, but not deigning to answer the pleasant-faced old man who had stopped the jogging of his horse to note her hur- "Look here; what's your name? ried manner, and who liked that little Well, Katy, you must come up to the face, anxious and sad as its expression house, and get something to eat. Going

was.

The dew was falling; Katy had almost fallen too. A rough stone by the way, imbedded in moss, received her tired little frame. She looked so weird and aged, siting there, her tangled hair falling on the hands that were clasped over her face! By the shaking of her frame the tears were coming, too, and she was bravely trying to hold them back.

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What a glorious vision burst upon her view-the palacehouse! the rocks reddening in the low, western sun; the shining river; the signs of luxury on every hand!

They walked up a wide avenue. Elms

Why! what is this dear little girl and oaks through their pleasant branches doing here?" on each side; here and there a flower The exclamation came from a pair of bush might be seen; vines grew around eager young lips. the noble pillars, twisting up, up to the glittering windows.

"A curiosity, I declare!" exclaimed a harsher voice; and Katy, looking up suddenly, cowered away from the sight of the pretty young girl and her agreeable-looking companion.

"Whatever are you doing here, little girl?" asked Nell Maywood, moving a little nearer to the frightened child.

"Going to scared way.

"Susan, give this poor child a good supper; she is hungry, and tired, too, I imagine. After that, I will see what can be done for her."

Susan wore a mild face. She looked pleasantly down at the poor, tired little one, and taking her hand, which trem," said Katy, in a bled now, led her into the kitchen.

Meanwhile her story, or that brief part of it which we know, was being told in

"Did you ever, George! this child going to ; why, it's ten miles the drawing-room. The sylph-like figure

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in white, lounging gracefully in the ries, and walked deliberately to the midst of delicate cushions, accompanied door. her narrative with expressive gestures, Why, she sat here some time after and now and then a little laugh. supper. I turned and came in; she was "I should like to know what she is sitting there, looking up-up at the going to for!" she said, leaning stars, I expect. I thought she was a languidly back. "We must get her up mighty quiet child; but she's deep, something to wear-a bonnet, a pair of deep, Miss Nelly; she's gone! Let me shoes; and then, maybe, we can manage see, there ain't any silver about-I to have her carried some way, if her errand is of any importance. Oh! such an odd-looking little thing!" "Who is that, my daughter ?"

“Oh, papa, you are come home; why, I was talking about a mite of a child; she can't be more than ten, if that. I saw her out here sitting on a moss-rock, the most forlorn object. She says she is going to.”

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should be afeard she'd took something; they're mighty artful."

"Why, didn't you tell her she might stay all night?" and Nell Maywood was peeping here and there to spy her, if possible.

"Yes, Miss Nell; and told her what a good bed there was over the woodshed; but she looked strange out of them large eyes of hers, and never seemed to hear."

"The poor child is in trouble," said Nell, quite sorrowful that she could not further relieve her necessities. "I'd have given her something to wear, and we could have sent her to ; but perhaps she will come back again; if so, will you send her to me?"

"If she do I will, miss," answered Susan, going at the gooseberries again.

A gay trio of young girls came in. The needle-work was laid aside; the gas But little Katy did not come back. burned brightly, and music and mirth She had been watching her opportunity banished all thoughts of care. Suddenly to get off, and had already been gone Nell Maywood remembered the little some time. She slept in an open field— odd figure, and, clapping her hands, crawled into some hay. She would have cried, "Oh, I have something to show walked all night, if she had dared, but you, girls!" and disappeared. she was afraid of the darkness.

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"Where is the child, Susy ?" asked over at my house," said a bluff-looking Nell Maywood.

"On the door-step, miss," Susan replied, picking away.

fellow, meeting one of the officers of prison. "We found her last night in some out-of-the-way place, and

"Why, no, Susan, there's nobody nothing would do but my wife must here; nobody to be seen."

"Yes, miss."

take her in. We can't find out her name, except that it is Katy, and I think Susan placed her pan down, held her she wants to see somebody in the prison. apron up to catch the stems of the ber-But we can't get anything out of her—

where she came from, or anything about| it."

"Bring her over here," said Mr. Warden. "My wife wants a little girl to help with the housework; maybe she's just the one that will suit."

So Katy stood, trembling more than ever, in a few moments, in the presence of Mr. Warden. Katy was a pretty child. Her large blue eyes wore an expression of intense melancholy; her hair had been nicely combed and curled, and some one had put a nice pair of shoes on

her feet.

"Well, my little girl," said Mr. Warden kindly, for he was prepossessed in her favor, "where have you come from?" "London," said the child, faintly. The two men looked at each other incredulously.

to

"Do you mean to say that you have

from London on foot ?"

"Yes sir," said the child, frightened at his manner, which had in it something of severity.

"And what have you come for?" "To see my father." The child burst forth with one great sob, and for a moment her little frame was shaken with a tempest of feeling.

"If it's Jim, he's a bad one," said the jailer, in a low voice; "he's in irons this morning for 'tempting to break jail; he don't deserve a little gal as looks like that one, the villain! Come, child, I'll go and find your father."

He took Katy's shaking hand; with the other she dashed the tears away as fast as they fell. It frightened her almost into calmness to see the ponderous door at which the jailer applied the great key; and the stillness of the long stone passages, the dimness thrown over all, the constant succession of bars and bleak black walls, were terrible to a sensitive mind like hers. How the heavy tread of the jailer, and the tread of Mr. Warden behind him, echoed through the gloom and the space! It was, in truth, a great tomb through which they moved-a tomb in which were confined living hearts, whose throb could almost be heard in the awful stillness. On, on they went, now through the massive door, now through that passage-way. Everything spoke of crime, of fierce passions subdued and held in stern control.

Then they turned, and went up-stairs, the jailer holding the scared bird close to his side with a tender clasp, Mr.

"And who is father ?" said Mr. War- Warden following. Another trap, and den, kindly.

"He is Mr. Lloyd," said the child, as soon as she could speak for her rushing sobs.

Mr. Warden looked at the jailer.

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at last they came to a stand-still. jailer rapped at a cell-door. Slowly the figure of a man, with a harsh, hair-covered face, appeared.

"Here's your little girl come to see you," said the jailer.

"Little girl! hem! your green," said the man, in gruff accents; "I've got no little girl, or you wouldn't catch me here."

"Father!" said the childish voice. It sounded so sweet, so childish, in that terrible prison. But, as the scowling face came closer to the bars, the child hid her head quickly in the jailer's arm, half sobbing-it wasn't him.

"We'll try the next one." He walked muscles of the mouth. "What in further on, and talked more pleasantly Heaven's name has brought her here?" this time. "Well, Bondy, here is little The jailer was calling the child to Katy; don't you want to see her?" consciousness. "Little Katy-" there was a long pause. "I had a Katy once-not a little Katy; I broke her heart-God pity me! Go on, it can't be for me."

Again the sweet voice rang out: "Father!"

"Shall we let her come in the cell ?" asked Mr. Warden.

Jim was dashing his hand across his face. A smothered "Yes" issued from his lips. They opened the ponderous door, and put the child within. Her arms were outstretched, his were wide open, and they came together with a clanking sound-together about the form of that poor little child.

The prisoner came up close to the bars; a youthful face, framed with light wavy hair-a face in which the blue eyes looked innocent-a face that it seemed a sin to couple with a foul deed-gazed "Oh, father!" "Oh, Katy! Katy!" out. It saw the child's earnest, plead- and then there was a quiet crying. Bying, tearful eyes. A dark expression and-by the man lifted the little head rolled like a wave across his brow; a whose glossy curls were falling on his groan came up from his bosom; and, with a low moan, he staggered against his bed, crying:

"Take her away; I can't stand the sight of anything pure like that!"

Katy had hidden her face a second time, as she feebly cried:

shoulders-and, oh! what a sharp rattle
of the chains smote on the ear-and
looked in her face. After a moment's
irresolution he kissed her, and then his
head fell under her earnest, loving look.

"Katy, what made you come!"
"I wanted to see you, father;" and

"It isn't him;" so they kept on to the head was on his shoulder again. the third cell.

“Jim, here's a little girl-little Katy, your daughter—wants to see you."

A stupid "What?" came from the bed; the man had probably just awakened.

"Your little daughter!"

"How did you come, Katy? Never mind the noise, they are locking up; they will be here again, and let you out; how did you come, Katy ?"

"I walked here."

"From London, child ?"
"Yes, father!"

There was no sound, save that of the chains, as he strained her closer to his bosom.

"And how did you leave-her-Katy -your mother?"

The question was fearfully asked, but not responded to. He gazed eagerly in

There was a sound of rattling irons that made the child shiver. Dimly apappeared the face and outlines of a wellmade man, the countenance handsome, but evil. He seemed not to comprehend; but, as fast as his chains would permit him, he came forward and looked out at the anxious face below. It was almost the child's face; her little lip was quivertoo much for the child. With a loud, convulsive cry, she exclaimed, "Father! father!" and fell nearly senseless against the jailer. A groan, a terrible groan, followed. "Katy!" exclaimed the man, and The convict's head fell in the lap of his there was a nervous twitching about the child, and he wept with strong cries.

ing.

"Katy, tell me quick!"

"She died, father!"

The jailer and the governor said that they never saw a sight so woeful. And the child tried to comfort him, till his strength seemed to be gone, and his sobs were like gasps.

"No, dear; but you shall come and see me again."

They took her gently from the dark cell; she sobbed very quietly. In Mr. Warden's room stood a pleasant-faced

"Oh, Katy, when did she die? Oh, old man. my poor May'! my poor girl!”

"Ever so long ago, I think- -ever so many weeks," replied the child; "but she told me to come and see you, and comfort you."

"I have come after that little girl,” he said.

"She must go home with me; I'll take good care of her. I've heard her story; and when her father comes out,

"Oh, God! this is hard! She always if he's a mind to behave himself, I'll forgave me."

give him plenty to do. Besides that, I'll "She told me to pray for you, too; bring her up once a week to see him. she told me to ask you, would be What say, you little one, will you go with real good after you come out, and meet me ?" and good old Mr. Maywood stroked her hair, as he said, pityingly, "Poor child! poor child!"

her in heaven."

*

*

Reader, ten miles from

there

"In heaven! I in heaven!" groaned the man, giving way again to his agony. The child was angel-guided. Her soft touch was better for his soul's good than is a little cottage occupied by a laborious the stripes and the chains. He had man and his one daughter. Little Katy been hardened; her little love had melt- is fulfilling the commands of her dying ed down the adamant-had found the mother-she is taking care of her locked-up good of his nature, and she father, and he, thank God, is taking care had sent her sweet smiles through the of himself. Men respect him, and God prison-door. Long he sat there, his has forgiven him.

head in the lap of his beautiful, quiet child. None dared disturb him; jailer and governor walk to and fro.

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Dr. Johnson used to say that a habit of looking at the bright side of every

'Father, when you'll come out, I'll event is better than a thousand pounds take care of you."

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a year. Bishop Hall quaintly remarks: "For every bad there might be a worse; and when a man breaks his leg, let him be thankful that it was not his neck." When Fenelon's library was on fire, "God be praised!" he exclaimed, "that it is not the dwelling of some poor man." This is the true spirit of cheerfulness and submission--one of the most beautiful traits that the human heart can possess. Resolve to see the world on the sunny side, and you have almost won the battle of life at the outset.

Young men soon give and soon forget affronts.-Addison.

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