The Portland daily press., 1875-01-16

longing that the girl felt. ts .
s'Helen." said She, 81 wish that you loved
little children-that you liked to be with
them and to amuse them."
81 DON'T Miss Hetty. They bother me,
and make me cross"
sHaye | ever told you about the hospital
that my nephew has under his care? There
are sometimes fifty little children. There is
great deal of suffering and pain among
them, but they are so patient and sweet, 1t
does me good to be near them. And then
they are so we'll and tenderly cared for! Will
you 90 there with me, Helen?"
sob. Miss Hetty, can not; don't want
to do that. But" she added. 81 would like
to give yon some money, if you will let me,
for the hospital"
When she was gone Helen sighed. "Ah,
how happy and busy Miss Hetty is with all
her good works 1 wish I knew what there
is for me to do. do hate my life, it is so
useless and tiresome; and they all think am
grieving for the past, and it is not that, for
grieving more for the present. l wish had
been born to scrubbing brush instead of a
silver spoon then should have been obliged
to work fsr living. That would be an ad-
vantage. Well, at least / will not sit here
complaining to myself l must 60 out in the
air and take walk; that may give me some
thing to think about"
1t was a clear cold day. Winter had begun,
and here and there in the streets on the I'M
even pavement were treacherons little patches
of ice waiting to trip up the unwary traveller.
EVERYTHING looked deslolate and chilly. A
poor Italian woman, with big sad eyes, sat at
the corner. She held a sick baby with one
hand, while with the other she ground a
squalling hand organ. Helen gave her some
money as she passed. -
"That seems to be all that can do" she
I. g., 6. I,,,tf hot &c uhat
does the money cost me"'
She had taken her way through some quiet
streets that she might avoid meeting many
people, and as she hurried along her eye was
attracted bv the sign on a house dOor-"HOs-
pital for children" .tt
mo, have no sympathy with children,
nor with sick people. / am not with sick
people. / am not kind like Miss Hetty."
Just then from the other sided of the street
little ragged girl came running toward her,
holding in her outstretched hand bit OF lace
that Helen had worn about her neck. She
was 5reathless with her haste, and smiling
with unmistakable delight; but as she gained
the corner, and before the driver had seen
her or refined in his horses she had fallen be-
meath their feet. With horror she never
conld forget. Helen saw the wheels go over
her. In an instant Helen had caught her
from under the carriage and carried her ten
derly to the sidewalk. She thought the
child was dead, and held her with sort OF
awe, while slowly from cut over her pale
temple fell drops of blood on Helen's dress.
The coachman had got down from his box,
and was trying to explain the case to an
officer of the police. A crowd began to col
lect, many voices talking at once.
"Who did it?'
eIs it her mother?'
CHE must ha' been drunk"
"Oh, it's only one of those poor little street
children"
"She's dead"
"Where does she live?"
Then Helen remembered the hospital, and.
followed by the curious crowd, she carried
the child towards the house. Her breath