Seated in a promiscuous crowd of traders and traveling clerks one evening, in front of his hotel, her name was introduced, and he learned that a short time before she had been on exhibition in Glasgow, Scotland. Immediately they started for that city, but on arrival found that a short time before she had been taken back to England, and was then in Birmingham. So to that city they posted, and on their arrival, to their joy, found she was then on exhibition. It now became necessary that extreme caution should be used, lest their long-cherished object would be frustrated on the very eve of consummation. The impatience of the mother knew no bounds: scarcely could she be restrained from rushing to the exhibition room and defiantly claiming her child, supposing the party who then had possession of it would recognize her claim. She was, however, at length convinced of the imprudence of such a course, and submitted until the case had been placed in the hands of the proper officers. Accordingly the Chief of Police and a select body of assistants were called and a true statement of the affairs given. The American Consul was also waited upon and consulted. He immediately took a lively interest in the matter, and advised that the arrival of the American party be kept unknown to the exhibitor until they, in company with a protective force of police, should enter the hall that evening; and should the child recognize the mother among the audience, it would be _prima facie_ evidence of the facts attempted to be established by them, and used as such in case of litigation. Accordingly, the impatience of the mother was restrained until the hour of the gathering of the visitors, when a portion of the police (selected for the purpose and disguised) Mr. Smith and the mother procured tickets of admission and entered the hall, as casual visitors impelled only by the general curiosity. No sooner, however had the keen eye of the mother caught a glimpse of her long-lost child than she uttered a scream of such heart-rending pathos that the audience simultaneously rose to their feet, wondering and astonished. The mother, overpowered, fell fainting to the floor. When resuscitated she wildly threw her arms about, crying in most piteous tones. “My own child! O! give her to me! Do not take her away again; she needs my care! Where is she? Where is she?” While this scene of excitement was going on, the exhibitor attempted to secrete the girl in an adjoining room; but an honest Scotchman, divining his intentions, placed his back against the door, and bringing himself into a position that would have delighted a pugilist, cried out: “Ye’ll nae tak’ the bairn ayant the door, maun ye wallop me first, and I’m nae thinkin’ ye’ll soon do that.”