manifested any fear of the woman, nor dislike of the play, but laid
her head on Sally's shoulder as naturally as if it had been her
mother.

"Dear little fellow," said Sal, "he looks like Willie, only not half
so handsome."

"She isn't a boy," quickly interrupted Mary. "Her name is Alice."

"No consequence," said Sally, "he's Willie to me;" and ever after, in
spite of Mary's remonstrance, she persisted in speaking of Alice as
"he," and "the little boy."

Mary soon found that the poor-house with Sal Furbush shut up, and the
poor-house with Sal at liberty, were quite different affairs. Now it
was no longer lonely, for Sal's fertile imagination was constantly
suggesting something new, either by way of pastime or mischief.
Towards Miss Grundy, she and the other paupers evinced a strong
dislike, owing, in a great measure, to the air of superiority which
that lady thought proper to assume, and which was hardly more than
natural considering the position which she occupied. She was a capital
housekeeper, and to one unacquainted with the circumstances it seemed
strange, why a person, apparently so strong and healthy, should be in
the Alms-House. Unfortunately, however, she was subject to fits,
which made her presence so unpleasant to the people with whom she
lived that at last, no one was willing to hire her. About that time,
too, she was taken very ill, and as she had no relatives, she was
removed to the poor-house, where she had remained ever since.

When Mrs. Parker became too feeble to work, Miss Grundy immediately