olicking and dancing away their lives, just as if they were to live
that way forever.

Where was Mrs. Simon? If you had looked into a house where wicked
people dwell, who live by breaking all God's commandments, there you
would have found her and little Rosa.

Was she happy there? Can any body be happy who makes up his mind to do
wrong? No; poor woman; she dreaded nothing so much as her own thoughts;
and sometimes when Rosa bounded into the room, she would start us if a
serpent had stung her. She didn't think when she went there, that
sickness and death would come to her in that wretched place; but they
did. And what was to become of little, innocent Rosa? Must she die and
leave her _there_? The thought of it made great drops of agony start
out on her pale face. She looked about her. There were none there who
feared either God or man, and her moments were fast numbering. She
called to her bedside one of the inmates who had been kind to her--a
young girl, whose heart was not hard and stony. She said to her, with
her hands clasped,

"Promise me, before I die, that you will get Rosa away from this
wretched place--quick--promise!"

"I will, I will!" said the young girl, wiping the death-damp from her
forehead.

The grave closed over poor Mrs. Simon and her errors; and poor little
Rosa sobbed as if she had been the best mother in the world; and then
the young girl, of whom I have spoken, whispered to Rosa that _she_
would be kind to her,--and so she was; for Mrs. Simon's death had made
her think of a great many good thoughts, and she wanted to get away,
too, and live where God was feared.

_Now_ you know who were in the carriage that was driving away with the
police officer. It was that young girl and little Rosa. The man in
whose house she lived, caught her going away with the child, and cut
her with a knife that such people always carry. That's why the blood
was on her cheek, and on Rosa's dress. And then, in the struggle to get
Rosa away, he broke her little arm with his rough grasp; so she had it
"in a sling." Perhaps they might not have got away at all, had not a
police-man heard their screams and helped them off. The man in whose
house they had been, was sent to "The Tombs" (a place in New York for
such people,) and then he was sentenced to the Penitentiary; and Rosa
was very glad to hear that, because she trembled all over for fear he
would get her again.

Dear little Rosa! the fright, and her grief, and the