WITH A WINE-GLASS. 107

break in the murky city, can thoroughly
appreciate the beauty and blessing of light.
Gradually the dark atmosphere became gray,
and the sparrows, those pariahs of the air,
began to rustle and twitter round the chim-
nies and keep from under the water-spouts.
The watching mother. extinguished her light,
| and both men and women, going to the early
work of honest, though hard industry, stepped
_ firmly on the pavements. Poor Mary won-
dered, as the light increased, where the stars
went to; she lit the fire and hung up the
kettle, and, adjusting her dress, after laving
her face and smoothing her beautiful black
hair, determined to go and walk up and
down Woburn Place and wait until she could
see Pegey, She Was about to set forth, when
there was a stumbling in the street, a sound
of shuffling rather than walking feet, and an —
attempt to chorus one of the drunkard’s songs,

“ We shan’t get home till morning ”— a party