y her before they stopped
anywhere to take refreshment. The second night was passed in a barn,
and about five o'clock the third afternoon they knocked at the door of
a neat-looking cottage, where nine or ten children were sitting in a
little room making lace.

"Why, Peggy," said the woman, as she opened the door, "I thought you
never would have come again! However, I see you have got me a hand at
last, and God knows I'm enough in want of her; for two of my brats
have thought proper to fall sick, and I have more to do than ever I
had in my life."

On the following day Eliza's filthy rags were all taken off, and she
was dressed in a tidy brown-stuff gown, a nice clean round-eared cap,
and a little colored bib and apron; and she was ordered, if any person
asked her name, to say it was Biddy Bullen, and that she was niece to
the woman who employed her.

The severity with which all this wretch's commands were enforced
wholly prevented any of the helpless victims who were under her
protection from daring to disobey them; and though most of them were
placed under her care by the same vile agent who had decoyed Eliza,
yet they were all tutored to relate similar untruths.

But I now think it is high time to carry my little readers back to the
cottage scene, where Susan was arranging things in order for
breakfast, and Sophia and her sister were anxiously watching the
moment when the cake was pronounced completely ready.

The old woman soon returned with the milk-pail on her arm, and Susan
eagerly demanded: "Where's Miss Eliza?"

"Oh, the pretty creature!" replied her mother, "she'll be here in a
minute, I warrant her; but she has gone skipping after our Billy, and
the two sweet innocents they are together."

She then went to the oven, produced the cake, and began buttering it
with all expedition, while Sophia joyously ran to the door of the
cow-house, and began loudly calling her sister Eliza.

No answer being returned, Susan began to feel alarmed, but the young
ladies told her not to be frightened, as they knew it was only one of
Eliza's pranks. But, alas! too soon were they convinced it was no
joke, but some dreadful misfortune must have happened.

"Miss Eliza! Miss Eliza!" was vociferated through the village, not
only by Susan and her mother, but by all the neighbors who had heard
of the calamity, while her sisters ran about frantic with grief,
crying, "Eliza, my love! my darling! Oh, if you are hid, for pity's
sak