zy,--clean crazy,--and she's in the crazy-house over on the Island
now."

"What island?" I asked, not with any desire to know this minor detail,
but because I was too disturbed for the moment to make any other
comment. It seemed to Henrietta, however, a most senseless question, for
she remarked rather testily:

"Why, just the Island, where they send all the crazy folks, and the
drunks, and the thieves and murderers, and them that has smallpox."

"Mercy! what an awful place it must be!" I cried. "And that's where the
poor girl went?"

"That's where she went--say, tell me honest now, didn't you run away?"

"Run away! Where from?"

"Run away from home--now didn't you?"

"Mercy, no! What put such an idea as that in your head?" I asked,
laughing.

"Fanny Harley did."

"Who's Fanny Harley?"

"She's the girl they took to the crazy-house."

"But," I argued, "is that any reason for you to suppose that I ran away
from home too?"

"Yep, it is. You're ever so much like Fanny Harley. You talk just alike,
and you've got just the same notions she had, from what I can make; and
she did run away from home. She told me so. She lived up-state
somewhere, and was off a farm just like you; and--"

"But I'm not a farmer, and never was," I put in.

"Why, you told me yourself you was born in the country, didn't you?" and
I saw there was no use trying to point out to Henrietta the difference
between farmers and those born in the country, both of which were terms
of contempt in her vocabulary. We were still threading the maze of
strange, squalid streets which was to lead us eventually to the former
brief abiding-place of Fanny Harley; and, filled with curiosity
regarding my own resemblance to my unfortunate predecessor, I revived
the subject by asking carelessly:

"How is it I talk and act that makes me like Fanny Harley?"

"Well, you 've got a kind of high-toned way of talking," she explained.
"I don't mind the way you talk, though,--using big words and all that.
That ain't none of our business, I tell the girls; but you do walk so
funny and stand so funny, that it is all I can do to keep from bu'stin'
out laughing to see you. And the other girls says it's the same with
them, but I told them it was because you was just from the country, and
that farmers all walk the same way. But really, Rose,--you're getting
used to that name, ain't you?--you ought to get yourself over it as
quick as you can; you ain't going to have no lady