tell me, but
I pinned her down and it come out, Eliza had the grip bad. And, then,
nothing would do but I must go to her--why, Mrs. Louder, she's my child!
But they wouldn't hark to it. 'Fraid to have me travel alone----"

"I guess they take awful good care of you," said Mrs. Louder; and she
sighed.

"Yes, ma'am, awful." She, too, sighed.

As she talked her eyes were darting about the room, eagerly fixed on
every new arrival.

"Are you expecting anyone, Mrs. Higbee?" said Jane. They seemed, at
least, to know each other by name, thought Tilly; it was amazing the
number of people mother did know!

"No," said Mrs. Higbee, "I--I--fact is, I'm kinder frightened. I--fact
is, Mrs. Louder, I guess I'll tell you, though I don't know you very
well; but I've known about you so long--I run away and didn't tell
'em. I just couldn't stay way from Liza. And I took the bird--for the
children; and it's my bird, and I was 'fraid Minnie would forget to feed
it and it would be lonesome. My children are awful kind good children,
but they don't understand. And if Solon sees me he will want me to go
back. I know I'm dretful foolish; and Solon and Minnie will make me see
I am. There won't be no good reason for me to go, and I'll have to stay;
and I feel as if I should FLY--Oh, massy sakes! there's Solon coming
down the street----"

She ran a few steps in half a dozen ways, then fluttered back to her bag
and her cage.

"Well," said Mrs. Louder, drawing herself up to her full height, "you
SHALL go if you want to."

"Solon will find me, he'll know the bird-cage! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

Then a most unexpected helper stepped upon the stage. What is the
mysterious instinct of rebellion to authority that, nine cases out of
ten, sends us to the aid of a fugitive? Tilly, the unconscious despot of
her own mother, promptly aided and abetted Solon's rebel mother in her
flight.

"Not if _I_ carry it," said she, snatching up the bird-cage; "run inside
that den where they sell refreshments; he'll see ME and go somewhere
else."

It fell out precisely as she planned. They heard Solon demanding a lady
with a bird-cage of the agent; they heard the agent's reply, given with
official indifference, "There she is, inside." Directly, Solon, a small
man with an anxious mien, ran into the waiting-room, flung a glance of
disappointment at Tilly, and ran out again.

Tilly went to her client. "Did he look like he was anxious?" was the
mother's greeting. "O