“Come here, Rosy, I say, and speak to the lady; she’s just seen your pappy.” At that word she sprang up, and came wonderingly to my side, never taking those eyes from my face. “Yes,” said I; “I have just come from him, and he wants so badly to see his little Rosita; what will she send him?” In a moment her little arms were tightly clasped round my neck, as I bent down to speak to her, and those rosy lips were pressed to mine, in a warm, loving kiss. Quite aware that this mute message, eloquent as it was, could scarcely be delivered with satisfaction to any of the parties concerned, I drew one of the feathers from her cap, and said, “Shall I tell him his little girl sent him this?” A bright, beaming smile, was the only answer I could extract. The woman now began a piteous story of having to provide for them--no money, etc., etc.,--backed by her husband, who appeared, pipe in his mouth, from some back den, evidently hoping to extort funds; but when they discovered that I was in possession of all the facts, with regard to the support of the children, they seemed to find it useless to proceed; and finally agreeing to my request that one of them would take the children to see their father, I left the direction, visiting days, etc., with them. Once more I stood by that bedside, which I had so lately left, with that deep groan ringing in my ears. “Do you know what that is?” said I, holding up the feather. No answer from the lips, but the eyes said, plainly, “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” I varied the question. “Do you know where that came from?” He started, pierced me through with those keen black eyes, then said, seizing the hand in which I held it with a grasp which secured my remembering him for many days, “You didn’t?--you couldn’t?--it isn’t?” “Yes,” said I; “I drew it from your little girl’s cap; she sent it to you with her love.” His grasp relaxed; and, burying his face in the pillow, he sobbed aloud. I waited, thinking he would recover himself, but no word came; hard, heavy sobs, only increasing in violence, shook the bed, and I was frightened at the terrible emotion I had called forth. Deeming it best not to notice it, I began quietly to give him an account of my trip, dwelling on the least exciting parts of it, but all of no avail; apparently he did not even hear me, and I saw that he was getting entirely beyond his own control.