Witch Hazel; or, The Secret of the Locket — page 50: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

little girl sitting ou the curbing close to a lamp-post, sobbing bitterly. Her face and hands were blackened by grime and smoke, through which the briny tears: were making uneven channels. Herauburn hair was tossed and tangled, and her clothing was half fallen off her little body. “Poor darling!’ said Emelie Graham, asob choking her atthe pitiful sight. ‘See! she is all alone in this hurrying, serambling throng, and she will surely die if left €o herself.” She leaned from the carriage, and cried out : “Little girl, where are your papa and Mamina ?” — “Gone way off,” sobbed the child, but looking curiously inte the face of the lady, with a pair of large dark eyes. “Come here then. I willtake care of yon,” said Mrs. Graham, reaching ont her fair hand to her. The little one arose tnd sprang toward her, almost frantic with fear from the contusion all about her, Mr. Earleacourt leaned forward at the same mo- mént, and together they lifted the astray waif into the buggy, where she nestled contentedly into Mrs. Graham’s arms, aud, wearied out with excitement and fatigue, was soon faust asleep. Then they went on through Walcot street, past the Catholic Cemetery, into Clark street, and so at last, just as day was breaking, reached the haven they sought—Lincoln Park. (TO BE CONTINUED.) omlicbooks.com