which came pattering down on the pavement from the
gutterless eaves, but we could learn nothing of the object of our
search.

At length we came to a grocery, and, stepping in by the mackerel
barrels which stood at the door, we repeated our inquiry--

"Can you tell us where Mrs. Smith lives? She is an old lady, almost
blind, and has a little grandson."

"Oh, yes! I know her well. She is a deserving, needy woman."

The man followed us to the street to point out the house where she
lived. As he was telling us, a woman passed by. He spoke to her,
saying,

"You know where Mrs. Smith lives--the old lady who is almost blind,
and who has a little grandson?"

"Yes."

"Will you show these ladies the place?"

"Yes."

She walked on with us till she came to a large tenement building, and
then directed us to a room in the upper story. We thanked her, and
entered the narrow hall, and passed up the still narrower staircase.

We knocked at the door, and were bidden to enter. The old lady was not
there. We inquired for her again, and learned that she had just gone
out. The woman said she would send for her. A boy, ten or twelve years
old, went to find her. While he was gone, we talked with his
mother,--a round-faced, good-natured, intelligent Irish woman. We
asked her where Mrs. Smith lived, and she said she was most of the
time with her. Poor woman! she had only a living-room and a bed-room
for herself and four children, yet she was willing to share them with
another as poor and more helpless than herself.

She was a widow, too, and had no one to depend upon. Her husband died
last spring. During the summer she had provided for her family by
washing and cleaning, but this winter she finds it almost impossible
to get work. One of the children is a babe, who was lying on a rough,
unpainted board-cradle, rudely put together by some unaccustomed hand.
This infant had been taken care of during the summer by his brother,
not more than ten or twelve years old, while his mother was absent at
work. There was a little girl, about eight years old, who attends the
Industrial School. She was quite unwell, and had not been able to go
out for several days. She sat in the great rocking-chair, looking sad
and disconsolate, as most sick children do. She was comfortably
clothed. Her dress she had received at the school, and had sewed on it
herself doing all her little fingers could do to make it. Her hair was
neatly combed. She was feverish