nce more I took off my  of ttle s a crust! for but one mouto allay tinctively I turned my face again to t in; and tured t—“ould shis handkerchief?”

    S me  suspicion: “Nay, suff i’ t way.”

    Almost desperate, I asked for ell he handkerchief?” she said.

    “ould sake my gloves?”

    “No! w could shem?”

    Reader, it is not pleasant to dails. Some say t in looking back to painful experience past; but at to revieimes to  oo distressing a recollection ever to be  on. I blamed none of t it o be expected, and  be ly an object of suspicion; a ably so. to be sure, ; but o provide me ? Not, certainly, t of persons ime, and o t take my , if to er or table. Let me condense no.

    A little before dark I passed a farm- tting, eating opped and said—

    “ill you give me a piece of bread? for I am very  on me a glance of surprise; but  ans to me. I imagine  t only an eccentric sort of lady, o  of sig doe it.

    I could not o get a lodging under a roof, and soug in to. But my nigc broken: truders passed near me more to cers; no sense of safety or tranquillity befriended me. to rained; t. Do not ask me, reader, to give a minute account of t day; as before, I sougarved; but once did food pass my lips. At ttage I satle girl about to to a pig troug?” I asked.

    Sared at me. “Mots me to give hese porridge.”

    “ell lass,” replied a voice   pig doesn’t  it.”

    tied tiffened mould into my  ravenously.

    As t tary bridle-path, which I had been pursu