“Gentlemen, a mother asks your indulgence,” was her appeal, as the keeper checked her entrance.

“Let her enter, Mr.—­,” said one of them.

“What is your wish, good woman?” continued the first speaker.

“I want to see my children.”

Her voice was so low and mournful, and her pale face, which still retained many traces of former beauty, expressed so strongly her maternal anxiety, that the hearts of all were touched.

They looked at each other for a few moments, and after some whispered words, directed that she should be allowed to see her children for half an hour each day.

The keeper now called their attention to certain of their proceedings, some weeks past, and they found that places had been obtained for two of them, the oldest boy, and the little girl, scarce ten years old.

“We have obtained good places for two of your children, madam; the other, aged two years, you can have under your own care, while here.”

“And all without allowing me one word, as to who should take them, or where they should go!  My poor little Mary, what can you do as a servant?”

“They are well provided for, madam.  You can now retire.”

Mrs. Warburton did retire, and with a bleeding heart.  Her little Emma was restored to her, and was constantly by her side.  She had been two months in the alms-house, when she was strong enough to work, and by a rule of he place, she had to work two months, to pay for her keeping while sick, before she would be allowed to go out, and maintain herself.

Slowly and heavily passed the hours for two weary months, when she presented herself for a release from imprisonment.

“Where can I find my children?” she asked of the keeper, as she was about to leave.

“It is against the rule to give any such information in regard to pauper children.  And in this particular instance, it was the request of both persons taking your children, that you should not be told where they were, as they wished to raise them without being troubled by foreign influence.”

The mother attempted no remonstrance, but turned away, and homeless, and almost penniless, leading her little one by the hand, again entered the city where her happiest years had been spent.

As she passed down a street, she saw on the door of an old brick house, the words “A room to let.”  She made application, and engaged it, at two dollars a month.  A pine table, and an old chair, she bought at a second-hand furniture store for a dollar; and with the other dollar she had left, the pittance saved from the twenty dollars she had when she left Ohio, she bought some bread, dried meat, milk, &c.  She had no bed, and was for some time compelled to sleep with her child on the hard floor.

The art of making cigars, which she had learned years before, and which had more than once stood between her and want, was again brought into use.  She applied at a tobacconist’s, and obtained work.  Giving all diligence, day and night, she was able to make five or six dollars every week, with which, in a short time, she gathered a few comfortable things about her, among which was a bed.