run away from a lazy nurse. My Biddy
wasn't one of the kind that dilly-dallies or shilly-shallies: she
pounces on the child like a hawk on a chicken, stops its mouth so it
could n't as much as peep, and carries it into a wood near by and hides
till dark. Then she takes it over to Fishkill, where she has friends,
who lend her proper clothes for the child, and give it a drink that
hushes its crying like magic just. Then she takes the night-boat for
New York, and in the big, crowded city the child was as completely lost
as the small chicken I likened her to would be if the hawk should drop
it in a wide sea-marsh. There was a great hue and cry about 'the
mysterious disappearance of the only child of John Phillips, Esq.,'
(just as if no poor, hard-working man ever lost an only child!) but
most of the newspapers drowned her, I believe. Biddy kept her mighty
close for a time, and sheared off her curls, but niver a hound of a
detective smelt at our door.

"I always told Biddy that trouble would come of this same matter sooner
or later, and sure had n't we a power of trouble with Molly
herself,--what with her pining and crying, (though Biddy soon learned
her to cry _silent_,) and her sickly turn, and her ungrateful
disposition? And didn't she forsake us at last,--me a lone widower,
and the poor motherless boys?"

"Ah, Magee, what an awful hypocrite you are!" exclaimed Mr. Raeburn;
"but go on."

"What more do you want to know, thin?"

"How old was the child when your wife stole it?"

"I should say that the child was a trifle over three years old when
Mrs. Magee adopted her," replied Patrick, with imposing dignity.

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Phillips both living?"

"It 's not ten days since I was towld they were, yer honor."

"I start for Newburgh to-morrow morning, with Molly--Miss Phillips,"
resumed Mr. Raeburn; "but you must remain where you are, in close
confinement, at least until we have ascertained if your statement be
true. If it be found so, I will do my best to effect your release.
Meanwhile, I hope you will improve the time in repenting of your past
life, and resolving to begin a better, for you are a great sinner,
Patrick."

"Arrah, yer honor, don't be too hard on a poor man! And sure you won't
lave me without an' other comforting drop of brandy?"

"You can have more if the doctor prescribes it again. He will know
what is best for you. But I hope you will think on what I have said.
If you wish to be a b