get her into the parks, too, and she would be sure, he thought, to get an appetite then. And so he kept up his spirits, and hoped for the best.
"She's ripenin' for the kingdom," was Joe Wrag's reflection, as he watched her pale face becoming thinner, and her great round eyes becoming larger and more luminous day by day. "She belongs to the elect, there ken be no doubt, an' the Lord don't intend for her little bare feet to walk the cold, dirty streets o' Liverpool much longer. I reckon she'll soon be walking the golden streets o' the shinin' city, where there's no more cold, nor hunger, nor pain. I shall be main sorry to lose her, bless her little heart, for I'm feared there's no chance of me ever seein' her agin when she's gone. I wonder if the Lord would permit me to look at her through the bars o' the gate just for a minit, if I wur to ax Him very hard? 'Twill be nice, anyhow, to think o' her bein' comforted while I'm tormented. But it comes 'ard 'pon such as us as don't belong to the elect, whichever way we looks at it."
Sometimes Joe would leave his home earlier in the afternoon than usual, and getting a nice bunch of grapes, he would make his way towards Nelly's stand as the short winter's day was fading in the west. He would rarely have much difficulty in finding his little pet, and taking her up in his great strong arms, he would carry her off through bye-streets to his hut. And wrapping her in his great warm overcoat, and placing her on a low seat that he had contrived for her, he would leave her to enjoy her grapes, while he
