"Maria."

"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl.
O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house.
Got a big box with a string to it."

A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering
a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down,
the boy called out,--

"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride."

"O, no--O, no; I don't _dass_ to."

"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he
saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down
and fetch you."

At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast
that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not
had a blind mistress pulling him back.

"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,--don't!"

"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.'
"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!"

"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he
tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches."