s if he had a sort of interest in her, they said knew all
about her. But if he did, he always kept it a secret between himself and
Hag Zogbaum.

"She was always of a melancholy turn, used to say life was but a burden
to her--that she could see nothing in the future that did not seem dark
and tortuous. The lot into which she was cast of necessity others might
have mistaken for that which she had chosen. It was not. The hard hand
of necessity had forced her into this quicksand of death; the
indifference of a naturally generous community, robbed her of the light
of intelligence, and left her a helpless victim in the hands of this
cultivator of vice. How could she, orphan as she was called, and
unencouraged, come to be a noble and generous-hearted woman? No one
offered her the means to come up and ornament her sex; but tyrannical
society neither forgets her misfortunes nor forgives her errors. Once
seal the death-warrant of a woman's errors, and you have none to come
forward and cancel it; the tomb only removes the seal. Anna took a
liking to me, and was kind to me, and looked to me to protect her. And I
loved her, and our love grew up, and strengthened; and being alike
neglected in the world, our condition served as the strongest means of
cementing our attachment.

"Hag Zogbaum then sent Anna away to the house up the alley, in Elizabeth
street, where she sent most of her girls when they had reached the age
of eleven and twelve. Hag Zogbaum had many places for her female pupils.
The very best looking always went a while to the house in the alley; the
next best looking were sure to find their way into the hands of Miss
Brown, in Little Water street, and Miss Brown, they said, sold them to
the fairies of the South, who dressed them in velvet and gold; and the
'scrubs,' as the old woman used to call the rest, got, by some
mysterious process, into the hands of Paddy Pie and Tim Branahan, who
kept shantees in Orange street.

"Anna had been away some time, and Mr. Tom Toddleworth had several times
been seen to look in and inquire for her. Mr. Toddleworth said he had a
ripping bid for her. At that time I was ignorant of its meaning. Harry
Rooney and me were sent to the house in Elizabeth street, one morning,
to bring Anna and another girl home. The house was large, and had an air
of neatness about it that contrasted strangely with the den in 'Scorpion
Cove.' We rang the bell and inquired for the girls, who, after waiting
nearly