Year: 1861

spark or vanity IN her heart, tor she
was sweet child, with brow like the
sunny snow drift, and eyes like the
spring violets that nestle IN the wood
lands. I will try, at least. and see
what I can do;' and after watching a
moment the weary sleep of her parents,
she whispered to the little boys that
she was going out to get some bread
for them, and hurried away.


She did 60 to the bakers, but her
pitiful STORY failed to touch his hard
heart, and there were tears on her cold
cheek as she turned away. Even if she
secured place, she could hope for no
wages till Saturday, and there were
four weary days between this and that.
Bread would be to late if she waited
till then. What should she do-beg?
She asked herself the question with
quivering lip. Never before had their
poverty driven them to that strait, and
it was hard, even now, with the picture
of that wretched home fresh IN her Wis
ion. to plead for charity. But she did
it.-Again and again she said to the
passer by, please, sir, please, ma'am,
give me a penny to buy bread for my
sick parents


But the gentlemen had their over
coats butoned to their chins, and the
ladies were enveloped in furs: and it
was too much like trouble to find their
pocketbook or purses just to supply
beggar's wants.


60 to the soup house. said one, at
last, more churlish than the rest. "The
city provides for suet as>you.'


1t was a new idea to her, and as fast
as feet could carry her she went, and en-
tering in breathless haste told her sto-
ry to the attendant matron.
i will report the case to the commit
tee,' said the woman quietly, making
memorandum of the name and number
of the street. Come in tomorrow
morning, and I will do what I can for
you


Tomorrow! She would become too
weak to walk so far by that time, and
what would become of the rest?


With heavy heart, she went home,
having no courage to present herself as
waiter to any of the coffee houses she
passed on her way.


Did you get some,' cried the boys,
gathering about her, and pulling offher
cloak to see if it were hidden in her
cloak or under her arms.


Did you get some? said two frint
voices from the bed IN the corner, and
the coverlet was thrown of, and two
pairs of thin, with hands put forth.


mo, no. she answered plaintively.-
But I will try again. Keep up good
hope


There will be plenty out Of the oven
now. Yes, plenty she said to herself,
as she buttoned her cloak on the thresh-
hold; plenty and I'll have some, too,
They shall not starve. Men and wom-
en- forsake me: God doesn't hear me
any longer There is nothing left for
me to do but steal'


! Her face was paled as she spoke it,
and for few moments there was wild
wrestle in her heart. Then she went on
quietly, pausing an instant before each
bakers door, md looking anxiously
within.-By and by she found one that
seemed empty.


A whole pile of steaming loaves lay
upon the counter.


She rushed in and seized one, and hi
ding it under her cloak, fled madly up
the street. But the baker had seen her
from the little sitting-room door, and was
after her, crying Justify, Stop thief, stop
thief ! A crowd followed her and the
poor child was soon run down.


Clear case, said the police officer,
who took her in hand-'property found
on her. She must go to the court ROOM


In vain she pleaded with them, aud
told her story. 'They mnst do their du-
ty, she might have begged, she might
have gone to the soup-house; there was