The guide at last conducted her down a flight of slippery steps, leading to the basement of a squalid old tenement-house, in the five stories of which more than as many families were packed, layer on layer, and Bessie found herself in the very bosom of the distressed family of her humble little friend. This home of virtuous poverty was not exactly what she looked for. It was darker, dirtier, more confused and noisy; it smelt worse. There were the "three darling little brothers," to be sure, and they were quite satisfactorily ragged. But Bessie looked in vain for the twin-sisters, whose blindness had so engaged her sympathies. But she said to herself, "Perhaps they, too, have gone out begging, with a pair of twin dogs to lead them." The invalid mother was surely on the mend, for she looked quite stout, and her face was flushed, though that might be from fever. She sat by an old stove, smoking a short black pipe.
"Well, Molly, what have you brought us?" exclaimed this interesting invalid, in a voice by no means agreeable.
"_I_ have n't got anything," was the reply; "but here's a rich little miss, as says she has got something for us; she _would_ come herself, instead of giving it to me."
The woman took her pipe from her lips, and fixing a pair of hard, hungry eyes upon Bessie, as she stood smiling kindly, with her basket on her arm, like a dear little Red Ridinghood, broke out with, "And what put it into the head of such a fine lady to come anear the likes of us the day?"
"I wanted to see how poor people live," replied Bessie, honestly, "and I have brought you something for Christmas," she continued, stepping up a little timidly, and offering her basket.
The woman caught it eagerly, and turned its contents into her lap. "And is this all?" she growled. "A pretty dinner, _indade_, for a starving family; nuts and candies and the like! No bread, not the _laste_ taste of butter or _mate_."
"O, I thought you would have such common things," said Bessie; "but I have some money to buy them with."
At this, a tall figure sprang up from a heap of rags in a dark corner, and came forward,--a very dirty, disreputable-looking man. Bessie, who had taken him for a sick man, was surprised to see that he also had a fine color in his cheeks, and even in his nose, but she noticed that he seemed very weak in his legs. "Hello! my little angel," he cried; "give _me_ the money," and rudely caught the _porte-monnaie_ from Bessie's hand.