with silk
bonnets on."

"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed;
but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all;
and there's a dead cat right in the street."

"Yes, I think likely."

"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't
nuffin on but dirty cloe's."

"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out
cautiously. "Don't fall down."

"I shan't fall down; I'm going home."

"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of
you."

"I don't want nobody's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma
myself!"

"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky
it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip
away in spite of me."

But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly
because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not
ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed
eyes.

"What's the name of you, girl?"

"Maria."

"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl.
O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house.
Got a big box with a string to it."

A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering
a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down,
the boy called out,--

"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride."

"O, no--O, no; I don't _dass_ to."

"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he
saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down
and fetch you."

At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast
that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not
had a blind mistress pulling him back.

"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,--don't!"

"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.'
"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!"

"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he
tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches."

"But he said a swear word,--yes he, did," sobbed the child, never
doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had
neither hands nor feet.

"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning
top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch
her--hold her--k