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holding up a Baby； and people knelt down before it。 What do you s'pose it
was？〃
〃Can't say！〃 replied the puzzled Jim。 〃Are ye sure 't was a church？
Most like 't was a mooseum。〃
〃No； no！〃 said Liz。 〃 'T was a church for certain； there were folks
praying in it。〃
〃Ah； well；〃 growled Jim； gruffly； 〃much good it may do 'em！ I'm not of
the prayin' sort。 A woman an' a babby； did ye say？ Don't ye get such
cranky notions into yer head； Liz！ Women an' babbies are common enough
too common； by a long chalk； an' as for prayin' to 'em〃 Jim's utter
contempt and incredulity were too great for further expression； and he
turned away； wishing her a curt 〃Good…night！〃
〃Good…night！〃 said Liz； softly； and long after he had left her she still
sat silent； thinking； thinking； with the baby asleep in her arms； listening to
the rain as it dripped； dripped heavily； like clods falling on a coffin lid。 She
was not a good womanfar from it。 Her very motive in hiring the infant at
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so much a day was entirely inexcusable； it was simply to gain money upon
false pretencesby exciting more pity than would otherwise have been
bestowed on her had she begged for herself alone； without a child in her
arms。 At first she had carried the baby about to serve as a mere trick of her
trade； but the warm feel of its little helpless body against her bosom day
after day had softened her heart toward its innocence and pitiful weakness；
and at last she had grown to love it with a strange； intense passionso
much that she would willingly have sacrificed her life for its sake。 She
knew that its own parents cared nothing for it； except for the money it
brought them through her hands； and often wild plans would form in her
poor tired brainplans of running away with it altogether from the roaring；
devouring city； to some sweet； humble country village； there to obtain
work and devote herself to making this little child happy。 Poor Liz！ Poor；
bewildered； heart…broken Liz！ Ignorant London heathen as she was； there
was one fragrant flower blossoming in the desert of her soiled and wasted
existencethe flower of a pure and guileless love for one of those 〃little
ones；〃 of whom it hath been said by an all…pitying Divinity unknown to
her； 〃Suffer them to come unto Me； and forbid them not： for of such is the
kingdom of heaven。〃
The dreary winter days crept on apace； and； as they drew near
Christmas； dwellers in the streets leading off the Strand grew accustomed
of nights to hear the plaintive voice of a woman； singing in a peculiarly
thrilling and pathetic manner some of the old songs and ballads familiar
and dear to the heart of every Englishman〃The Banks of Allan Water；〃
〃The Bailiff's Daughter；〃 〃Sally in our Alley；〃 〃The Last Rose of
Summer。〃 All these well…loved ditties she sang one after the other； and；
though her notes were neither fresh nor powerful； they were true and often
tender； more particularly in the hackneyed； but still captivating； melody of
〃Home； Sweet Home。〃 Windows were opened； and pennies freely
showered on the street vocalist； who was accompanied in all her
wanderings by a fragile infant； which she seemed to carry with especial
care and tenderness。 Sometimes； too； in the bleak afternoons； she would be
seen wending her way through mud and mire； setting her weary face
against the bitter east wind； and patiently singing on； and motherly women；
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coming from the gay shops and stores； where they had been purchasing
Christmas toys for their own children； would often stop to look at the
baby's pinched； white features with pity； and would say； while giving their
spare pennies； 〃Poor little thing！ Is it not very ill？〃 And Liz； her heart
freezing with sudden terror； would exclaim； hurriedly； 〃Oh； no； no！ It is
always pale； it is just a little bit weak； that's all！〃 And the kindly
questioners； touched by the large despair of her dark eyes； would pass on
and say no more。 And Christmas camethe birthday of the Child Christa
feast the sacred meaning of which was unknown to Liz； she only
recognized it as a sort of large and somewhat dull bank… holiday； when all
London devoted itself to church…going and the eating of roast beef and
plum…pudding。 The whole thing was incomprehensible to her mind； but
even her sad countenance was brighter than usual on Christmas eve； and
she felt almost gay； for had she not； by means of a little extra starvation on
her own part； been able to buy a wondrous gold…and…crimson worsted bird
suspended from an elastic string； a bird which bobbed up and down to
command in the most lively and artistic manner？ And had not her hired
baby actually laughed at the clumsy toy laughed an elfish and weird
laugh； the first it had ever indulged in？ And Liz had laughed too； for pure
gladness in the child's mirth； and the worsted bird became a sort of
uncouth charm to make them both merry。
But after Christmas had come and gone； and the melancholy days； the
last beating of the failing pulse of the Old Year； throbbed slowly and
heavily away； the baby took upon its wan visage a strange expression the
solemn expression of worn…out and suffering age。 Its blue eyes grew more
solemnly speculative and dreamy； and after a while it seemed to lose all
taste for the petty things of this world and the low desires of mere
humanity。 It lay very quiet in Liz's arms； it never cried； and was no longer
fretful； and it seemed to listen with a sort of mild approval to the tones of
her voice as they rang out in the dreary streets； through which； by day and
night； she patiently wandered。 By…and…by the worsted bird； too； fell out of
favour； it jumped and glittered in vain； the baby surveyed it with an
unmoved air of superior wisdom； just as if it had suddenly found out what
real birds were like； and was not to be deceived into accepting so poor an
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