WITH A WINE-GLASS. 23

“ Death is often nigh handy to us, dear,”
said Peggy; “we're anything but ready for
him.” oe i

“Took!” exclaimed the little fury, quite
heedless of Peggy’s words,— __

“TI wait here night and day; rain, hail
and shine; and they shan’t drag me away.
Pu wait here till her mother comes out;
she murdered her, and TI brain her! I’ve
the stones in me basket ready.” |

She seized a stone and held it aloft, clasp-
ed in her emaciated fingers.

_ “Nelly! my Nelly! said her. mother would
be her death, and so she has been; but I'll
have her life!”

“Have you no parents, child?” inquired
Peggy; horrified at the wild vehemence, the
determination and revenge expressed in
every distorted feature of the face, in which
her great eyes burned, rather than sparkled.

“Not that I know on; what’s the good