Little Nelly looked happy for a moment, but soon a shadow came over her face; for she could not comprehend the meaning of her mother when she said she was “better,” for she looked more feeble than she had ever seen her since the news of how her father was shot in the face at Monterey was told her.

But she tried to be cheerful.  She tried to smile, but, O, it was very hard; and she got her mother’s breakfast, and, having cleared the things away, took her little basket, and her mother’s purse, and went out.

It was, indeed, a happy day without.  There was joy depicted on every countenance, and the general happiness infused some of its spirit into the heart of our little trader.  She seemed almost lost in the great crowd; and there were so many dealers about, and so many that presented greater attractions in the display of their stock, that few bought of little Nelly.

It was late in the afternoon, and she had sold but a little, when she encountered a young lady gayly dressed, in whose hand was prominently displayed a bead purse, through the interstices of which the gold and silver glistened.

Nelly held out her humble purse, in which no beads were wrought, through which no coin glistened,—­she held it up, and ventured to ask, in pleasant tones, a few pennies of the lady.  But not a penny for little Nelly.  Not even a look recognized her appeal, but costly, flowing robes rushed by, and nearly prostrated her; they did force her from the sidewalk into the gutter.

Go on, ye proud and selfish one!  Go, bend the knee to Fashion’s altar, and ask a blessing of its presiding spirit!  Bestow no pitying glance on honest poverty; no helping hand to the weak and falling!  There is a law which God hath written on all his works, proclaiming justice, and giving unto all as they shall ask of him.  Pass on, and heed not that little praying hand; but remember you cannot do so without asking of that law its just requital.

Nelly walked on.  She mingled again with the great mass, and twilight came.  It was then that she sat down, as I have before stated, to count her money.  She had but thirteen cents.  All day she had sought to dispose of her stock, that she might carry to her mother the sum named, with which to have a happy time at home.  And now the day had gone; the night was drawing its great shadowy cloak about the earth, and Nelly had but about one half of the required sum.  What should she do?

It was at this moment I met her.  I stooped down, and she told me all her story;—­told me all her sorrow,—­a great sorrow for a little breast like hers.  I made up the trifling amount, and, taking her by the hand, we went together towards her home.

Reaching the house, we entered, and were met on the stairs by an old lady, who whispered in my ear, “Walk softly.”  I suspected in a moment the reason why she asked me thus to walk.  She then led the way.  She tried to keep back the little girl, but she could not.  She hurried up the stairs, and through a long, dark entry, to a door, which she quickly opened.