w gal, as lodges in Mrs. Flin's house where the fat man
goes so often," said a rough-looking lad to a ragged and dirty group,
that huddled about the walk.

"Let's have at her," returned another, and suiting the action to the
word, he flew along the street after the frightened child, with the
whole troup following him.

The little thing tried hard to out-run them; but 'twas in vain; they
were close upon her, and one had kicked the pail from her hand, while
another was about to tear the string from her neat sun-bonnet which he
had snatched from her head.

"Be off, or I'll bate the life out of every mother's son of ye, an' my
name's Pat Rourke," said a tall Irish boy who came up that moment,
laying about him right and left among the little brutes, who scampered
in every direction, not without a few wholesome bruises as witnesses to
Pat's bravery. "Come on, my little girl," added he, taking Nannie's
trembling hand, "I'll get the wather for ye;" and taking up the pail, he
filled it, and carried it quite to the child's room. "It's a purty place
ye have here," said he, looking from the windows, "and a nice little
sister," as Nannie took the waking child from the cradle. "Here let me
make the fire for ye," continued he, seeing the awkwardness of working
with a baby in her arms, "and don't go to the pump again, Pat Rourke's
the boy as'll get the wather, when he comes from the coal-yard o'
nights; ye may put the pail down by the door in the enthry, an' its
quickly ye'll find it filled;" and the noble-hearted boy stubbed out of
the room, with his heavy boots clumping down, down, down.

"Every body's good to me," thought Nannie, the ill usage of the moment
before quite forgotten in the joy at finding so kind a champion.

The room looked nice and cheery when Mrs. Bates returned. The new stand
was in the corner, with the new Bible upon it, and the table was spread
with a frugal, but wholesome meal; and Nannie seemed so bright, and the
baby so sprightly and well. Besides she had sold all her wares, at a
good profit, so that she was free from care for the time, at least.
Nannie had a great deal to tell about Mr. Bond, and the book he had
brought her, and of Pat Rourke, her manly protector; and the mother
began to think the bright days were dawning upon them indeed! She didn't
forget the sorrow that had so lately come to her; but there was a joy in
the children that was infectious, and her smiles were more frequent than
her tears.