﻿52 PICTORIAL MISCELLANY. 



a millionaire sobbed he could not help it. The firm is still one 

 of the first in London. 



The 30,000 of the turnpike boy is now grown into 200,000, 

 Fortune has well disposed of her gifts. 



Ella Gray. 



A WINNING child, whose tender eyes 



Looked up in mine with glad surprise ; 



While round my neck her arms were thrown, 



Her red lips laid beside my own ; 



She whispered in my bended ear, 



In tones so musically clear 



I know why I love you, 

 You look like my mamma ! 



And closer yet she clasped my side, 

 As though the world held nought beside ; 

 And tears brimmed up within her eyes ; 

 Her voice grew tremulous with sighs, 

 While words leaped out without prepare, 

 Yet still the burden of them are 



I know why I love you, 

 You look like my mamma ! 



I pressed my hand upon her head, 

 And mutely asked a blessing shed ; 

 What is your story, darling? tell ! 

 Yet still these words her lips o'erfell ; 

 As though the heart outpoured itself, 

 And these were all her childish wealth 

 I know why I love you, 

 You look like my mamma ! 



I strove to wile her from her tears, 

 For she was all too young in years 

 To know a grief. " What is youi name? 

 And who 's mamma, my little dame?" 



" Lady, my name is Ella Gray, 

 Mamma and pa are gone away ; 

 Mamma to heaven, and my papa 

 Hath gone a soldier to the war ! 

 There 's only Willie, now, and 1, 



