A Little Maid of Old Philadelphia

								

somewhere by some cruel person who did not care if he was fed or not.
Aunt Deborah was very patient with the little girl. She picked up the
dropped stitches in the knitting; and when she found how uneven a seam
Ruth was stitching she picked out the threads without a word of reproof.
But on the second day, as they sat at work in the little sewing-room at
the top of the stairs, Ruth threw down her knitting and began to cry.
"I can't knit! I can't do anything until Hero is found. You know I
can't, Aunt Deborah. And I do wish my mother would come home," she
sobbed.
Aunt Deborah did not speak for a moment. She had no little girls of her
own, and she often feared that she might not know what was exactly right
for her little niece. So she never spoke hastily.
"For thy sake, dear child, I wish that thy mother were here: but it is
very pleasant for me to have thy company, Ruth," she said in her
musical, even voice. "Would thee not like to go and play with Winifred?
But be sure thy hair is smooth."
But Ruth made no reply. She stopped crying, however, and looked up at
Aunt Deborah.
"Didn't you like Hero?" she asked.
Aunt Deborah knitted on until she came to the last stitch on her needle,
then she lay down her work, and looked at Ruth with her pleasant smile.
"Indeed, I liked Hero," she said; "but suppose I decided that because he
was lost I would no longer prepare thy breakfast or dinner? that I would
not see that thy mother's house was in order. Thee would truly think I
had but little sense. It does not prove thy liking to cry because thy
dog is lost; to fix thy thoughts on thy own feelings and leave thy tasks
for me to do. It does not help bring Hero back. Now, put on thy hat and
cape and we will walk toward the river. I have an errand to do," and
Aunt Deborah got up and went to her own room to put on her long gray
cape and the gray bonnet that she always wore on the street.
She was waiting in the front hall when Ruth came slowly down the stairs.
She had put on her brown straw hat, whose ribbons tied beneath her
chin, and the pretty cape of blue cloth; for there was a sharp little
March wind, although the sun shone brightly. Ruth's face was very sober;
there were traces of tears on her cheeks. She wished that she had said
she would rather play with Winifred; but it was too late now.
"We need many things, but I fear 'twill not be easy to purchase either
good cotton cloth or a package of pepper," Aunt Deborah said as they
turned on to Second Street. "There was but little in the shops when the
British came, and of that little they have taken for themselves so there
is not much left for the people."
"They have taken Hero, I know they have!" Ruth replied. "I wish
Washington would come and drive the English out."
"Oh! Ho! So here is a small rebel declaring treason right to the face of
an officer of the King!" and Ruth, surprised and frightened, felt a hand