"Guess this is what Posy Jane 'd call 'hoppin' out the fryin'-pan inter the fire,' Bonny Angel. It's worse an' more of it, an' I want to get quit of it soon's I can. 'Tain't no ways likely grandpa's hereabouts, an'----My, but you're a hefty little darlin'! If I wasn't afraid to let you, I'd have ye walk a spell. But you might get runned over by some them ingines what won't stay still no place an' I dastn't, you dear, precious sweetness, you! I shan't put you down till I drop, 'less we get out o' this sudden." But even as she clasped her beloved burden the closer, Bonny Angel set this decision at naught by kicking herself free from the girl too small and weary to prevent; and once upon the ground, off she set along a particularly shining track, cooing and shrieking her delight at her own mischievousness. "Oh! oh! oh!" screamed Glory, and started in pursuit. Of course, she could run much faster than her "Guardian," but that tiny person had a way of darting sidewise, here and there, and thus eluding capture just as it seemed certain. Fortunately, the direction she had chosen led outward and away from the maze of steel lines, and, finding no harm come of it and the child so happy, Glory gave up trying to catch and simply followed her. Just then, too, there came into view the sight of green tree-tops and a glimpse of the river, and these encouraged her to proceed. Indeed, she was now more afraid to go back than to go forward, and Bonny Angel's strange contentment in the care of a stranger, like herself, renewed a belief that she was other than mere mortal, and so above the common needs of babies. Reasoned this "Little Mother" of Elbow Lane, "If she was just plain baby an' not no 'Angel,' she'd a-cried fer her ma, an' she hain't never, not onct. She hain't cried fer crusts, neither, like Meg-Laundress's twins is always doin'. 'Course, them cakes what th' Apple Kate give her was sweet an' a lot of 'em. The crumbs I et when Bonny Angel fired the bag away was jest like sugar. My, prime! Some day, when I get rich, an' they ain't nobody else a-wantin' 'em, I'll buy myself some cakes ezackly like them was. I will so--if they ain't nobody else. But, there, Glory Beck, you quit thinkin' 'bout eatin' 'less first you know, you'll be hungry an' your stummick'll get that horrid feel again. Hi, I b'lieve it's comin' a'ready an' yet I had that splendid breakfast!"