d up the dull, heavy eyes, and Matty raised them to the
dear old lady's face.

"It is almost a pity to wear it so closely bound up," continued cousin
Serena; while Bessie and I, apparently making an inspection of Johnny's
stock while he was engaged with another customer, lent attentive ears
to what passed, I feeling rather that my intended mission work had been
taken up by other hands; "it would show so nicely if you wore it loose
and flowing as most little girls do now. I would like to see it when it
is down."

With a motion marvellously quick in one so crippled, the child raised
her hands, unbound the coil from about her head, and drawing her
fingers through the plait, let the rippling, waving masses fall flowing
over her poor, twisted, mis-shapen shoulders.

"Amy and Bessie," said cousin Serena, pursuing her advantage of playing
upon the only vanity in poor Matty's nature, "Amy and Bessie, come here
and see what beautiful hair this child has. It is a good deal like
yours, Amy, both in color and quantity."

With another sudden motion, Matty drew the shining waves in front of
her, glanced at them lovingly, and then raising her eyes to me with the
first appearance of any thing like interest in them which I had ever
seen, scanned my locks, and said with something of malicious triumph in
her tone and look,--

"It's prettier nor her'n."

"So it is, Matty," I said, ignoring what Daisy would have called the
"discompliment" to myself, and determined to strike while the iron was
hot, or at least approaching an unusual degree of warmth,--"so it is;
you have the very prettiest hair I ever saw."

Matty did not smile,--I never but once saw the light of a smile on her
face,--but she gave a low chuckle. Evidently we had touched a chord
that would respond; an ignoble one it might be, but it was something to
have gained even this.

Having dismissed his customer, Johnny now came to the front.

"'Tis goot," he said, pointing to the beautiful locks; "'tis goot. Mine
wife she say 'tis pest cut off dat head; bud Maddy she so moosh lofe
dat head, an' 'tis so goot, I say, leaf her keep her head. So mine
wife, she say, 'yes, 'tis too pad to cut dat nice head,' an' she leafs
it on her, an' mine wife she comb an' prush it for Maddy. But I tells
Maddy she shall sell dat head for so moosh as fife tollars if she
schuse."

"Don't ye be after tellin' me mother that," said Matty, with a sudden
look of angry alarm, which was really pathet