. 'I will tell you, _mein Herren;_ I
know men, and I do not believe any one, I have been cheated so often.
There is no trust in any one. I am not a child. I have lived as long as
people twice as old.'

"'But you do not wish to stay in prison?'

"'O God, no! Oh, there is such a weight on my heart here. There is
nothing but bad to learn in prison. These dirty Irish girls! I would
kill myself if I had to stay here. Why was I ever born? I have such
_Kummerniss_ (woes) here (she pressed her hand on her heart)--I am
poor!'

"We explained our plan more at length, and she became satisfied. We
wished her to be bound to stay some years.

"'No,' said she, passionately, 'I cannot; I confess to you, gentlemen. I
should either run away or die, if I was bound.'

"We talked with the matron. She had never known, she said, in her
experience, such a remarkable girl. The children there of nine or ten
years were often as old as young women, but this girl was an experienced
woman. The offense, however, she had no doubt was her first.

"We obtained her release; and one of us, Mr. G., walked over to her
house or cabin, some three miles on the other side of Williamsburgh, in
order that she might see her parents before she went to her new home.

"As she walked along, she looked up in Mr. G.'s face, and asked,
thoughtfully. Why we came there for her? He explained. She listened, and
after a little while, said, in broken English 'Don't you think better
for poor little girls to die than live?' He spoke kindly to her, and
said something about a good God. She shook her head, 'No, no good God.
Why am I so? It always was so. Why much suffer, if good God?' He told
her they would get her a supper, and in the morning she should start off
and find new friends. She became gradually almost
ungoverned--sobbed--would like to die, even threatened suicide in this
wild way.

"Kindness and calm words at length made her more reasonable. After much
trouble, they reached the home or den of the poor rag-picker. The
parents were very grateful, and she was to start off the next morning to
a country home, where, perhaps finally, the parents will join her.

"For myself, the evening shadow seemed more somber, and the cheerful
home-lights less cheerful, as I walked home, remembering such a
history.

"Ye who are happy, whose lives have been under sunshine and gentle
influences around whom Affection, and Piety, and Love have watched, as
ye gather in cheerful circl