moment: in vain did Eddy ask to be allowed to help in colouring the sugar-sticks. "That's easy work, my fine fellow," said his brother; "it is much easier to colour sugarsticks than cry fish and fruit all day long; not a bit of it-you shall stay there, unless you choose to do what I do."

"But remember, John," said his sister, "that Eddy got his hurt from you."

"From me?" exclaimed John Graham, with the utmost surprise; "that's a lie, I'm sure."

In former days the youth would never have indulged in such language as this, especially to his own sister; but drink, and the bad company he had lately mixed with, had sadly altered him now.

"You don't remember," said Mary, very quietly, although her cheeks were as red as fire, for she had never been taxed before with telling a lie; " but he did get his hurt, poor fellow, from you, for you threw him against the bed at the old house, and his leg has been bad ever since."

"I don't remember anything about it," said John Graham, who now felt that it was very likely that he had done so, when he was unconscious from drink; "I don't see why you should put it down on me. I tell you what it is," said he, you two are always joining together against me, and this is one of your makes up. I won't stand it,

66

that I won't, and if Eddy doesn't choose to come out he may live as best he can; he may lie there as much as he likes, but I won't support him, that I won't."

66

Well, I'll do as much as I can for him," said Mary, going up to her crippled brother, and kissing him with all her heart.

“You'll find you have enough to do for yourself," answered John Graham; "I'll give him a penny a day, and let him do his best on that; and mind you," said he to Mary, as he cast an angry look at her, "take care and don't spend a farthing of my money on him."

"not

"I will not," said the little girl; a farthing of yours-but all of mine," said she, as she kissed poor Eddy, and whispered lovingly into his ear.

CHAPTER VII.

IT was just as well that Eddy Graham gave up the trade of a costermonger at once, for his hip soon became so bad that he was confined entirely to his bed. A penny a day was regularly allowed by his brother, but not a farthing more would he give; and as Mary's work was at this time very slack, it went very hard with poor Eddy. He often knew what it was to feel hungry, but he never com

plained, and his sister never saw him with anything but a cheerful face. Many a time did she eat far less than she desired, because she would not indulge in plenty while her twin-brother was in want; but, as she had promised, she never gave him any of John's provisions. Mary was half sorry that she had ever made the promise, but when she had done so, she fully expected to have had a little of her own, with which to supply her twin-brother's wants. As to poor Eddy, he shuffled out of the way at meal-time, whenever he could; and when, owing to the increased pain of his hip, that was impossible, he lay upon his pallet, with his face turned to the wall; not that he could not bear to see the food of which he was forbidden to partake, but that he would not make his sister feel uncomfortable at eating while he could not. This wretched kind of living, however, so reduced the poor boy at last, that his hip became far worse than it had ever been, and it really seemed as though he could no longer bear the pain. Had his brother taken the trouble to look into the matter, he would soon have seen that Eddy's low moanings were not pretence, and that it was not from choice that he lay upon his pallet the live-long day. Drink had blinded John Graham's eyes, as well as blunted his feelings; he could easily do now what he would have trembled even at the thought of doing before.

Things could not always go on thus; and at last Eddy Graham became so skeletonlike in his appearance, and his poor bones seemed so near sticking through his skin, that the old woman thought he must die in the house, and therefore the sooner he was got rid of, the better. When once this idea had taken possession of the old woman's head, she soon let Mary Graham know what her opinion was. Not a moment's ease did she allow her, when she was at her work, and the names she called dear little Eddy made the affectionate girl's heart bleed.

"Hadn't the little beggar better be taken to an hospital? He'll die here, and kick up a bother in the house; we don't want any row of that sort going on; why don't you take him away?"

These words were addressed to Mary Graham, one evening, as she was finishing her work, and thinking how delightful it was to have a few pence to spend upon the poor crippled boy.

"He is not a beggar," answered Mary Graham, meekly; "he has never asked anything from any one yet, although I am sure he is so miserable and half-starved that he deserves charity much more than many who get it."

"Let him go and look for it, then," said the old woman, "for he must go out of this; we don't want him to die here.” And the

old woman said what was true; for so little was her conscience at ease, so well did she know what death would bring to her, that she did not like it spoken of, much less to have it brought before her very eyes. "I hope God will spare him, Mary Graham.

66

him,"

answered

Spare him! what would He spare him for?" cried the old woman; and she threw such an expression of scorn in the word him, that it would have been too bad for Eddy, had he been even a poor worm of the dust.

Mary burst into tears, and cast such a reproachful look at the old woman, that her wrath waxed very hot, and she determined to have her revenge. Out of the house she was now determined that Eddy should go at once; she knew that that was the severest way of spiting his sister, but she did not content herself with that. Watching her opportunity, the wicked woman spilt a little of the boiling sugar on the poor girl's hand, and a loud cry of pain soon told how effectually she had taken her revenge. Had the ladle from which the boiling liquid had been poured contained much more than it actually did, the child might have lost her hand; as it was, she suffered severely, not only at the moment, but for many days. As to the old woman, she pretended it was an accident, and being somewhat alarmed at Mary Graham's outcry, applied some oil to the burn, and bound it up