ttern of handiness
to Simpson's trestle an' couldn't have been planned no better not
if----Hi, baby, how goes it?"

This to Bonny Angel, whose eyes had shone with delight when first the
car had rolled forward, but who now grew frightened and began to whimper
dismally, which set Glory's own heart beating sorrowfully and spoiled
her pleasure in this novel ride. Springing up she would have taken Bonny
Angel from Timothy's arms into her own had he not rudely pushed her down
again, commanding sternly:

"Try that no more, colleen, lest ye'd be after murderin' the pair of us!
Sit flat, sit flat, girl, an' cut no monkey-shines with nobody, a-ridin'
on a hand-car."

Glory had not thought of danger, though her new friend had not
over-rated it. In obedience to this unexpected sternness, she crouched
motionless beside him, though she firmly clutched at Bonny's skirts and
began to think this her hardest experience yet, till after a time, at
sight of a gamboling squirrel, the little one forgot her fear and
laughed out gleefully. Then Glory laughed, too, for already her tiny
"Guardian" could influence every mood, so dearly had she grown to love
the child thus thrown upon her care.

How the fences and the fields raced by! How the birds sang and the
flowers bloomed! And how very, very soon the queer little car stopped
short at a skeleton bridge over a noisy creek! There all the workmen
leaped to the ground and hastily prepared for labor. Even Timothy had no
further time to talk but coolly setting the children upon a bank pointed
to a house across the fields and ordered Glory, "Go there an' tell your
story, an' tell Mary Fogarty I sent ye."

Then he fell to his own tasks and Take-a-Stitch had no choice save
obedience.

For a little distance, there was fascination in the meadow for both
small wanderers; but soon Bonny Angel's feet lagged and she put up her
arms with that mute pleading to be carried which Glory could not resist,
yet the little creature soon grew intolerably heavy, and her face buried
beneath her nurse's chin seemed to burn into the flesh, the blue eyes
closed, the whole plump little body settled limp and inert, and a swift
alarm shot through the other's heart.

"Oh, oh, I believe she's sick! Do 'Angels' ever get sick? But she isn't
a truly 'Angel,' I know now. She's just somebody's lost baby. Queer!
Grandpa so old an' she so young should both of 'em get lost to onct, an'
only me to look out for 'em! Yet, maybe, th