eep her!"

"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded
woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she
talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement,
looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a
strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people
wandered into that dirty alley.

"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps _you_ can find out
where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I
could do to keep up with her."

Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she
was afraid every moment of falling.

They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after
they got there Fly looked around in dismay.

"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not
half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse.

"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria.

"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper.

There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean
dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy
bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man.

"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her
up on the bed."

"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little
girl like to talk to him? He's sick."

Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did
not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed,
and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all
crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a
button-hole bouquet to her bosom.

"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for
he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time."

Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden
pity,--

"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor
bottle?"

"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure
you."

Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers.

"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight
more good than camfire!"

"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound
of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell
on him, and lamed h