s little heart in her
manner of performing the task.

Ten o'clock found me alone and musing in the barroom over the
occurrences of the evening. Of all the incidents, that of the entrance
of Joe Morgan's child kept the most prominent place in my thoughts. The
picture of that mournful little face was ever before me; and I seemed
all the while to hear the word "Father," uttered so touchingly, and yet
with such a world of childish tenderness. And the man, who would have
opposed the most stubborn resistance to his fellow-men, had they sought
to force him from the room, going passively, almost meekly out, led by
that little child--I could not, for a time, turn my thoughts from the
image thereof! And then thought bore me to the wretched home, back to
which the gentle, loving child had taken her father, and my heart grew
faint in me as imagination busied itself with all the misery there.

And Willy Hammond. The little that I had heard and seen of him greatly
interested me in his favor. Ah! upon what dangerous ground was he
treading. How many pitfalls awaited his feet--how near they were to the
brink of a fearful precipice, down which to fall was certain
destruction. How beautiful had been his life-promise! How fair the
opening day of his existence! Alas! the clouds were gathering already,
and the low rumble of the distant thunder presaged the coming of a
fearful tempest. Was there none to warn him of the danger? Alas! all
might now come too late, for so few who enter the path in which his
steps were treading will hearken to friendly counsel, or heed the
solemn warning. Where was he now? This question recurred over and over
again. He had left the bar-room with Judge Lyman and Green early in the
evening, and had not made his appearance since. Who and what was Green?
And Judge Lyman, was he a man of principle? One with whom it was safe
to trust a youth like Willy Hammond?

While I mused thus, the bar-room door opened, and a man past the prime
of life, with a somewhat florid face, which gave a strong relief to the
gray, almost white hair that, suffered to grow freely, was pushed back,
and lay in heavy masses on his coat collar, entered with a hasty step.
He was almost venerable in appearance; yet there was in his dark, quick
eyes the brightness of unquenched loves, the fires of which were
kindled at the altars of selfishness and sensuality. This I saw at a
glance. There was a look of concern on his face, as he threw his eyes
aro