"Mrs. Blinder
comes up now and then, and Mr. Gridley comes up sometimes, and perhaps I
can run in sometimes, and they can play you know, and Tom ain't afraid
of being locked up, are you, Tom?"
"No--o," said Tom stoutly.
"When it comes on dark, the lamps are lighted down in the courts, and
they show up here quite bright--almost quite bright. Don't they, Tom?"
"Yes, Charley," said Tom, "almost quite bright."
"Then he's as good as gold," said the little creature, oh, in such a
motherly, womanly way. "And when Emma's tired, he puts her to bed. And
when he's tired he goes to bed himself. And when I come home and light
the candle, and has a bit of supper, he sits up again and has it with
me. Don't you, Tom?"
"O yes, Charley!" said Tom. "That I do!" and either in this glimpse of
the great pleasure of his life, or in gratitude and love for Charley, he
laid his face among the scanty folds of her frock, and passed from
laughing into crying.
It was the first time since our entry, that a tear had been shed among
these children. The little orphan girl had spoken of their father and
their mother, as if all that sorrow was subdued by the necessity of
taking courage, and by her childish importance in being able to work,
and by her bustling busy way. But now, when Tom cried; although she sat
quite tranquil, looking quietly at us, and did not by any movement
disturb a hair of the head of either of her little charges, I saw two
silent tears fall down her face.
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