WE sometimes get, by chance, as it were, glimpses of life altogether
new, yet full of instruction. I once had such a glimpse, and, at the
time, put it upon record as a lesson for myself as well as others.
Its introduction into this series of "Confessions" will be quite in
place.

"How many children have you?" I asked of a poor woman, one day, who,
with her tray of fish on her head, stopped at my door with the hope
of finding a customer.

"Four," she replied.

"All young?"

"Yes ma'am. The oldest is but seven years of age."

"Have you a husband?" I enquired.

The woman replied in a changed voice:

"Yes, ma'am. But he isn't much help to me. Like a great many other
men, he drinks too much. If it wasn't for that, you wouldn't find me
crying fish about the streets in the spring, and berries through the
summer, to get bread for my children. He could support us all
comfortably, if he was only sober; for he has a good trade, and is a
good workman. He used to earn ten and sometimes twelve dollars a