Little Edith Malcome pitied the pale, sad face
that appeared at the kitchen door every Monday morning, and always asked
her father's permission to give her a basket of victuals to carry home,
which were always received with many grateful expressions by the poor
woman.

Edith sat by the drawing-room window, one bleak, stormy winter morning,
watching the snow as it fell silently to the earth, when a man of
singular appearance, walking slowly along the opposite side of the
street, attracted her notice.

"O, father!" exclaimed she quickly, "come here; the oddest-looking man is
going past."

Col. Malcome rose from his seat by the fire and approached the window.
"What a disgusting appearance he presents!" said he, gazing on the
slowly-receding figure. "It angers me to see a man degrade himself by
such uncouth apparel."

"O, not disgusting! is he, father?" said Edith, "only odd and droll; and
his face looked so pale and mild, I thought it really pretty. If he only
wouldn't wear that short-waisted, long-tailed coat, with those funny
little capes on the shoulders, and leave off that great tall-crowned hat
with its broad, slouching brim, and have a little cane instead of that
long pole he carries in his hand, he would be quite a pretty man,--don't
you think so, father?"

"Well, really I don't know how he might look were he thus transformed,"
answered Col. Malcome. "I only expressed my opinion of his present
appearance."

"Don't you know who he is?" asked Edith.

"No," said her father, returning to his seat.

"Well, I wish you would try and learn his name," pursued the fair girl.

"What for?" asked Col. M., resuming the perusal of the volume he had left
to obey her summons to the window.

"Because I would like to know it," returned she. "I fancy he is some
relation of that pale Dilly Danforth's, for he has just such mournful
eyes."

"I do not wish to see them then," said her father, with some impatience
of manner, "for I don't like the expression of that woman's eyes."

"They are very sad," said Edith, "but sorrow has made them so. I think
they were once very beautiful. But won't you learn this strange man's
name? Perhaps he is very poor, and we could alleviate his wants by kind
charities."

"No," answered Col. M. in a tone which dismissed the subject; "I cannot
run about the country to hunt up old stragglers for you to bestow alms
upon."

Edith looked on her father's stern brow, and, feeling it was useless to