good; but now He is in heaven, and
still He loves us, oh, so dearly, and wishes us all to come to Him."

"Does He want me?" asked the outcast doubtfully; "He don't know me."

"Oh yes, He knows you, Jimmy, and loves you too; once Jesus blessed
little children like you and me, and said, 'Suffer little children to
come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of
heaven.'"

"The kingdom of heaven!" repeated poor benighted Jimmy musingly--it was
the first time he had ever heard those blessed words--"where be that,
Polly?"

"It is where God lives, and where we shall go when we die if we believe
in the Saviour and love and pray to God."

"How do you pray?" he asked, fixing his keen eyes upon her, as though
hungering for the bread of life.

But before she could reply, a loud, harsh voice was heard uttering
frightful oaths, and a lumbering tread came stumbling up the cellar
stairs. The poor boy knew full well who was coming, and with a terrified
look started up and hobbled off, supported by his clumsy crutches, round
the corner of the house, whilst Pollie, who went in terror of the
drunken woman, ran hastily up the dirty staircase, which served for all
the inmates of the crowded house.

CHAPTER III.

HOW POLLY SPENT HER MONEY.

The first two or three flights of stairs were thickly strewn with mud
and dust from the feet of the different lodgers; but when Pollie reached
the last landing she felt it was home indeed. The stairs were as clean
and white as hands could scrub them--no dirt was to be seen here,--and
outside her mother's door was a little mat on which to rub the shoes
before entering. It was quite a relief to reach this part of the house.

There were only two rooms at the top part of the tenement--one inhabited
by good Mrs Flanagan, the other by Pollie and her mother; and though the
apartments were small, and the narrow windows overlooked the
chimney-pots and tiles, yet they felt it such an advantage to be up
here, removed, as it were, from the noisy people who lived in the same
dwelling; each room, in fact, was let out to separate families, some of
them very rough and boisterous.

Pollie tapped at her mother's door, and then peeped merrily in. There
sat that good and gentle woman, busily working close by the narrow
window, so as to get as much light as possible for her delicate
needlework.

The tea-things were already on the table, which was spread with a clean
white cloth, and th