to Dr. C. Renton, Bowdoin Street," (which, I know, could not keep it from the eyes of the angels!) and he sat down to await her return. 

 "Mrs. Miller," he said, kindly, "don't be alarmed about your child. She is doing well; and, after you have given her the medicine Mrs. Flanagan will bring, you'll find her much better, to-morrow. She must be kept cool and quiet, you know, and she'll be all right soon." 

 "O Dr. Renton, I am very grateful," was the tremulous reply; "and we will follow all directions, sir. It is hard to keep her quiet, sir; we keep as still as we can, and the other children are very still; but the street is very noisy all the daytime and evening, sir, and—" 

 "I know it, Mrs. Miller. And I'm afraid those people down stairs disturb you somewhat." 

 "They make some stir in the evening, sir; and it's rather loud in the street sometimes, at night. The folks on the lower floors are troubled a good deal, they say." 

 Well they may be. Listen to the bawling outside, now, cold as it is. Hark! A hoarse group on the opposite sidewalk beginning a song,—"Ro-o-l on, sil-ver mo-o-n—" The silver moon ceases to roll in a sudden explosion of yells and laughter, sending up broken fragments of curses, ribald jeers, whoopings, and cat-calls, high into the night air. "Ga-l-a-ng! Hi-hi! What ye-e-h 'bout!" 

 "This is outrageous, Mrs. Miller. Where's the watchman?" 

 She smiled faintly. "He takes one of them off occasionally, sir; but he's afraid; they beat him sometimes." A long pause. 

 "Isn't your room rather cold, Mrs. Miller?" He glanced at the black stove, dimly seen in the outer room. "It is necessary to keep the rooms cool just now, but this air seems to me cold." 

 Receiving no answer, he looked at her, and saw the sad truth in her averted face. 

 "I beg your pardon," he said quickly, flushing to the roots of his hair. "I might have known, after what you said to me this evening." 

 "We had a little fire here to-day, sir," she said, struggling with the pride and shame of poverty; "but we have been out of firing for two or three days, and we owe the wharfman something now. The two boys picked up a few chips; but the poor children find it hard to get them, sir. Times are very hard with us, sir; indeed they are. We'd have got along better, if my husband's money 

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