it seems to me I remember _all_ these grand
things,--carpets and curtains and pictures,--or things just like them."

"Perhaps your mother has taken you to such houses, or you went by
yourself, sometime?"

"No, lady, _she_ never took me with her; and the servants of grand
houses never let the likes of me come farther than the alley gate or
the kitchen door. No, it must be I _dreamed_ it all. Many is the
lovely things I see in my dreams, ma'am. I see blue water, with
vessels sailing softly by, like the great white swans in the Park, and
mountains and trees, and flowers that smell like fine ladies'
handkerchiefs on Broadway; and many's the time, when I am tired and
footsore, I seem to sleep, as I tramp, and dream of a good, kind
gentleman, who takes me up in his arms and carries me. And sometimes
at night, when I am cold and hungry, I dream of a sweet lady, who parts
my hair, and pats me, and kisses me, and hugs me up warm. I call those
my _dream_ father and mother."

As Mrs. Raeburn sat reflecting on the words of the child, Bessie
brought a story-book to her young friend. Molly turned over its leaves
sadly, saying, "I don't know how to read, miss."

"Nor write?" asked Bessie.

"No, miss."

"Nor cipher, nor find places on the map?"

"No, miss."

"Dear me! Do you know any hymns?"

"No, miss. What are they, thin?"

"Hymns? Why hymns are a sort of singing prayers."

"O, thin, miss, I do know one. I say it every night; and when I 've
had to tell a great many lies I say it over and over _hard_:--

'Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.'"

"Who taught you that?" asked Mrs. Raeburn.

"I don't know, ma'am. It seems to me my dream-mother taught it to me."

Bessie soon grew very fond of her protegee (a French word, meaning one
whom you protect); and her romantic mind rushed at once to the
conclusion that she was to have an adopted sister. But her parents had
other plans for Molly. They felt that it would be much better for the
child, if she could be wholly removed from the city, in which she had
lived so unhappy and discreditable a life, and where it was to be
feared she would always be subject to the degrading influence or
annoying interference of her father.

Following Molly's directions, Mr. Raeburn, accompanied by Mr. Blair,
the good policeman, sought out Patrick Magee, and by sternly
threatening