r.

"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly,
"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I've many curious things to show you when you're there."
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

At the door of some of the shops, she saw a man standing upon a box,
with a hammer in his hand, and a crowd around him, eager, and bidding
against one another. "Going, going, a splendid gold watch at five
dollars--the greatest bargain in the world--tremendous sacrifice--going,
going, _gone_!"

At last they came to his den; a shop like the rest, piled up with old
brass andirons, sofas, bureaus, tables, lamps, coats and pants, ropes,
feather-beds, and hideous daubs of pictures. Old-fashioned
mantel-ornaments, looking-glasses, clocks pointing to all hours of the
day, waiters with the paint rubbed off, old silver candlesticks, and a
heap of other trash, completed the furniture of the room. Stumbling
through this lumber, Smith led her up to a little garret, where the bare
rafters were covered with dust, and one hole of a window let in some
light, enough to reveal the nakedness of the place. In one corner, upon
the dirty floor, was an old bed; a piece of a mirror was fastened
against the wall, which looked quite innocent of the whitewash brush;
and a stool, which had lost one of its legs, was lying in a very
dejected attitude near the door. "Here you are to lodge," said Smith,
with a sardonic grin, as he noticed the child's dismay at the
announcement. "You can stay up here till I want you, and when you are
hungry, you can go down stairs to the little back kitchen and get a
slice of bread; but don't dare to show your face in the shop." "When
will my trunks come?" said the little girl, whose wits were sharpened by
the necessity of looking out for her own interests. "Never you mind
about them trunks," replied Smith; "I advise you to keep quiet, and it
will be the better for you." So saying, he descended into his shop, and
left the poor child to her meditations, which were none of the
pleasantest.

Two days passed without Smith making his appearance, and Margaret worked
up her courage to the point of going into the shop, even if it did
excite his anger, and insisting upon his taking her to her uncle, or
sending her back to the ship. She walked in, u