it's all like a pretty picture of the past days. They were brave men.
and good fellows who helped to bring it about: I feel almost like saying
my prayers to them. And yet there were people--yes, and poor people
too--who couldn't bear the idea of it. I wonder what they think of it
now. I wish, sometimes, I could make people understand how I felt when
they came to me in prison, where all things were so miserable that,
heaven be praised! I can't remember its misery now, and they brought
Robert to me, and he hugged me and kissed me, and said, when he stood
away from me a little, "Come, Mary, we are going home, and we're going to
be happy; for the rich people are gone, and there's no more starving or
stealing." And I didn't know what he meant, but I saw such a look in his
eyes and in the eyes of those who were with him, that my feet seemed
scarcely on the ground; as if I were going to fly. And how tired out I
was with happiness before the day was done! Just to think that my last-
born child will not know what to be poor meant; and nobody will ever be
able to make him understand it. [NUPKINS _groans_.] Hilloa! What's the
matter? Why, there's a man ill or in trouble; an oldish man, too. Poor
old fellow! Citizen, what's the matter? How can I help you?

_C. N_. (_jumping up with a howl_). Ah, they are upon me! That dreadful
word "citizen"! (_Looks at_ M. P. _and staggers back_). Oh, Lord! is
it? Yes, it _is_--the woman that I sentenced on that horrible morning,
the last morning I adorned the judicial bench.

_M. P_. What _is_ the matter? And how badly you're dressed; and you
seem afraid. What _can_ you be afraid of? If I am not afraid of the
cows, I am sure you needn't be--with your great thick stick, too. (_She
looks at him and laughs, and says aside_, Why to be sure, if it isn't
that silly, spiteful old man that sentenced me on the last of the bad
days before we all got so happy together!) (_To_ N.) Why, Mr.