Some of these women were kind, and gave themselves lovingly to their infant charges, yielding their hearts to humanity without reservation. These took their seats in the outer office, with quiet and serene faces, folding their orphan babies in their arms, with a soft, motherly instinct that had no thought of the searching eyes turned upon them, but waited serenely in an atmosphere of honest love. Others, cruel and crafty, were anxious only to pass examination, and obtain the money which was to repay the forced succor they had given the forlorn children in their arms. These women were often seized with paroxysms of affection, as they ranged themselves to wait, and fell to caressing the poor infants with revolting fondness, hugging them to bosoms that loathed the contact, and kissing the poor lips from which their cruel hands would gladly have withheld the very food necessary to life. Among these women, some motherly from nature, others cruel against nature, there came a little Irish woman, plump and rosy, and evidently of a cheerful habit, better clad and better looking every way than her companions. She held a beautiful little boy by the hand, who came reluctantly, lifting his fine eyes to her face with a wondering, anxious look, and dragging back shyly, half-hiding behind her gown, as he approached the crowd of strange women. The poor creature had evidently been crying. Her eyes were red, and her rosy cheeks tear-stained, while her plump lips seemed laden with suppressed sobs, that threatened to break forth afresh every time her eyes fell upon the boy, who was so anxious to hide himself in her garments. “Mammy, mammy, take me home; don’t stay here, mammy; let’s go home,” pleaded the boy, pulling her gown with both his plump hands, while she lingered to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I won’t stay; I won’t speak to that man; he makes you cry.” Mary Margaret could not answer him, but a great sob burst from her lips, and snatching him up, she buried her face in his bosom. The little fellow drew back, and laid a soft palm on each cheek, while he looked—oh! so lovingly, into her eyes. “Don’t, mammy, don’t; please don’t—home, go home!” he said, grieved and wondering. “I can’t, I can’t; they won’t let me take you home again. My heart is broke. Oh! it’s got a pain that’ll last forever. Eddie, my darlint, put your two blissid little hants together, as if ye was prayen’ to the Virgin herself, me boy; and ask the gentleman to let yees go back wid yer own nurse.” Eddie patted her cheeks again, while his beautiful lips began to quiver, and his eyes filled with tears. “Yes, yes, don’t cry any more. Eddie will tell him; don’t cry; he will.” Struggling down from the poor woman’s arms, the little fellow clenched his small white fists, and rubbed the tears from his baby-eyes, half-grieved, half-belligerent, while he marched up to the superintendent, who greeted him with an extended hand, smiling kindly. “Well, Eddie, my boy, where’s your hand?”