200 ' ' TROTTY’S WEDDING TOUR. Deb was not ugly to see, — except for the curve in her poor shoulders, and her little soft, white, withered feet that hung down useless from her high chair. In the face, Deb was not ugly at all to see. She had soft hair, and her cheeks were white and clean, and her eyes had grown so large and blue with fifteen years’ full of wonder, that, if you were once to see them, you would never forget them as long as you lived. A young lady that I heard of will never forget them as long as she lives, and you shall hear about her presently. In the daytime Deb shut her eyes and tried to think what it would be like to run about with the children who did not wonder; to see streets, or a crowd, or a church-spire, or a funeral, or people going to a wedding, and other strange things of which the children who did not wonder talked to each other; and which, because her eyes were shut, she saw or seemed to see, and yet always knew that she never saw them all. : At night she liked to open her eyes, and to lie with them open a long, late time, after the children who did not wonder were asleep. She liked to open her eyes at night, because then the two things that she liked best happened, — the dark and the bells. It seemed, indeed, that, the darker it was, the more bells there were always. First, there were the mill-bells, in the early winter dusk; they rang very hard and very merrily, to let the factory-girls go home to put the little pink bows upon their nets. Then there were church-bells ; they