Year: 1878

ear of the dead. Never wish or a
hope crossed the childs mind, except
wish to be let alone.


At last the boy, by the directions
OF the policemen, pulled her toward
the opening. She did not resist-she
did not know how to resist, her whole
life had been a crushing submission
to everything horrible. -t.


Finally the men could reach her,
and the poor, little half dead figure
was brought to the light.


Poor soul = said one of the men,al'
most tenderly. She's near death with
cold and hunger


She could not walk. Kind, though
rough, hands carried her to the sta
ton house, where warm fire and a
few spoonful of broth, hastily procured
from q restaura At brought her who'll
ly back to life, and she sat up in her
chair and faced the row Of pitying IA
ces with all her young misery.


Little by little her story was drawn
from her, and eyes unused to tears
were wet with the horror Of it.


But what to do with her-that was
the question. She was not an often
der of the law, and this institution,
was not for the protection of mlsfort-
une, but the punishment Of crime.
They did the best they could. They
fed her, made her a comfortable bed
on d bench in the station. house and
the next morning the whole story
went into the papers.


You've had enough Of this black
picture; perhaps too much. Well,
let US look on another.


|


Isabella Buckingham, spinster
aged 35, lived alore at the outer end
of the social ladder. She had wealth
she had culture, size had luxury. She
had charming home on a fashiona
bIe avenne, large enough, yet not toe
large, with servants enough, yet not
too .nany; books, flowers, friends
everything, one would think.


She had too much, in fact for she
had heart, also a conscience, ant
lust then thew were both troublesome
The heart, because she had no one es
pecialIy her own to love, and the ccn
science because it constantly y remind.
ed her that the world held plenty SHE
could make her own.


"Some beggtr's brat y she said tc
her elf. II could love some child O
good parents, but a dirty, low wretel
out of the streets. Pah | couldn'
endure it.


But her conscience was wide awake
Unfortunately she had been reading
vivid account Of the wretchcd poor
and she could get no rest from its suo
gestlons.


"You cant endure a crnmpled rose.
leaf to vex your luxurious life, il
said.


"Think Of what young girls have to
endure in that other life T.


She didn't want TO think. She has
tily rang for the morning paper anc
her coffee. The dainty Old china cups
and the silver urn with its fragrant
the contents, stood on the light table
and the crisp, fresh newspaper lay OF
the tray before her. Unfolding the
sheet, she cast her eyes over the col.
umns, and in moment was arrested
by this heading, in large type: Gro.
zen and Starved" Aud breathIess
iv she read the whole account Of Mo.
ra Denniss brief life tragedy.


Surely, some good angel stood by,
for with sort Of pang, Miss Isabella
Buckingham felt like flash, "TLat
is the one for me.


But the idea was absurd. She
read other things. She slipped her
coffee. She took up a book All in
vain; the fight went ON in her soul.
She could not get rid of it. She-she
was dressed and ordered the carriage
and went out.


Even then she would not give up.
She ordered Thomas to drive up the
avenue and down the lake shore. But
at last, wearied out by the contest,
she ordered him sharply: ITO the
street police station a.,


Thomas wondered, but obeyed Of
course, and in short time the dngy
station house received an unusual Wis
itcr. Her rich garments looked
strange enough there, and she instinct
ivelv shrank back, but tho thought Of
other innocent women who had been