At length I to the Boy call'd out, But neither cry, nor voice, nor shout, The Boy then smack'd his whip, and fast The voice, and bade him halt again. Said I, alighting on the ground, "What can it be, this piteous moan?" And there a little Girl I found, Sitting behind the Chaise, alone. "My Cloak! the word was last and first, And loud and bitterly she wept, As if her very heart would burst; And down from off the Chaise she leapt. I saw it in the wheel entangled A weather beaten Rag as e'er From any garden scare-crow dangled. 'Twas twisted betwixt nave and spoke ; Her help she lent, and with good heed Together we released the Cloak; A wretched, wretched rag indeed! And whither are you going, Child, To night along these lonesome ways?" 66 To Durham" answer'd she half wild"Then come with me into the chaise." She sate like one past all relief ; "My Child, in Durham do you dwell?" She check'd herself in her distress, 66 And said, “My name is Alice Fell; I'm fatherless and motherless. And I to Durham, Sir, belong." And then, as if the thought would choke The chaise drove on; our journey's end As if she'd lost her only friend She wept, nor would be pacified. Up to the Tavern-door we post ; 5. RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE. There was a roaring in the wind all night; |