Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. “You are very stupid, Anna,” she said. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way.
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