“MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. "Before to- morrow night that boy shall join his father. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. “If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. After that night she made it a habit. " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. I also have eyes, and I have seen the picture. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us.
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