to great deceit, and to having obtained
money under false pretences. If she had not given proper food, that, she
contended, was an error of judgment. It was hard, she thought, that she
should be held accountable for the child who died in the workhouse. She
dwelt much upon the difficulties brought upon her by her dread of the
money-lender--that fungus growth of our so-called civilization, who has
brought so many criminals to the gallows, besides ruining families every
day in each year of grace! That she had administered laudanum she
denied. The evidence as to the dirty condition of the children she
asserted to be false. She wished to avoid all bitterness; but those who
had so deposed had sworn falsely. "I feel sure their consciences will
condemn them to-night," she wrote, "for having caused the death of a
fellow-creature." In the face of the evidence, she felt the jury could
not find any other verdict, or the judge pass any other sentence than
had been done. The case had been got up, she argued, to expose a system
which was wrong. Parents wished to get rid of their ill-gotten
offspring. Their one thought was to hide their own shame. "They," she
concluded, "are the real sinners. If it were not for their sin, _we_
should not be sought after."

There must surely be some whose consciences these words will prick.
However this woman deserved the bitter penalty she has now paid, there
is indeed a tremendous truth in her assertion that she, and such as she,
are but the supply which answers their demand.

And so we filed away as the autumnal sun shone down upon that gloomy
spectacle, leaving her to the "crowner's 'quest," and the dishonoured
grave in the prison precincts. Up to the previous night strong hopes of
a commutation of the sentence were entertained. Her brothers had
memorialized the Home Secretary, and were only on the previous day
informed that the law must take its course. Let us hope that this stern
example will put a stop, not only to "baby-farming," which, as the dead
woman truly said, is but a consequence of previous crime--but also to
those "pleasant vices" which are its antecedents and encouragements.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

BREAKING UP FOR THE HOLIDAYS.

Unromantic as it sounds to say it, I know of few things more disgusting
than to revisit one's old school after some twenty or thirty years. Let
that dubious decade still remain as to the number of years that have
elapsed since I left school. In fact, it