thes, picked me out two pretty good chemises, a
flannel petticoat, and an old stuff-frock, which still was a very good
one. After I had put on my clean linen, Mrs. Williams took my old
clothes, excepting my stays, which I doubled up and laid under my
pillow, and tying them in a small bundle, opened the window and threw
them into the street, saying:

'Bad as they are, they may be useful to some poor creature.'

We then retired to bed, and I passed some hours in peaceful repose.

Chapter VI

We arose about four o'clock in the morning and went to the market,
which, at this early hour, was crowded with waggons, carts, and country
people, who had brought various kinds of vegetables for sale. Mrs.
Williams and her eldest daughter went among these people to make their
purchases, while the younger one, Jane, and myself went to the shop,
which we opened, kindled a fire, and prepared everything for breakfast.
About eight o'clock Mrs. Williams returned, accompanied by a clean,
good-looking countryman, to whom she said:

'This, Master Davis, is the little girl I was mentioning to you. I see
breakfast is ready, so sit down and take a cup of tea with us, and I
will tell you all I know about her, and how it was she came to me.'

The good man took his seat at the table, and during the time of
breakfast Mrs. Williams told him all my little story, and concluded by
urging the request that he would try to get me engaged to work in Mr.
Freeman's gardens.

'I will do what I can,' said he; 'but this is a bad time of year to take
on a fresh hand, and the child looks but weakly, and that, you know, is
against her. However, I'll give her the chance, and take her down with
me in the cart, and I'll go with her to Mr. Freeman and say what I can
for her; and if he engages her, why, I'll let her be at my house as one
of my children--that is, if my dame agrees to it, and belike she may, as
we have children of our own, and don't know what they may come to; but
if master will not engage her, why, I must bring her back again next
market-day, for I cannot afford to keep her for nothing.'

'No, no,' said Mrs. Williams; 'I don't desire that you should. If Mr.
Freeman will not engage her, bring her back, and I must try to do
something else for her; but say all you can in her favour. She is a
friendless child, and you don't know what your own children may come
to.'

'Very true,' said he. 'I'll do all I can for her. But what be we to call
her, as