Cautiously Nance makes inquiries about the "finds." How much did they sell things for, if they found any?
"My aunt," said one girl, "onst foun' a gol' ring, an' the jew'ler give her a dollar for 't."
"He melted it down," explained another. "They allus does that. He told me one day that if ever I found a gold breas'pin or a bracelet, 'which 'tain't noways likely you will,' sez he, 'fetch it to me, an' I'll give you what's right for it.'"
So Nance's "find" was really worth money. More money, too, than she could earn in many days' steady toil. What would it not buy! Food, clothing, warmth, everything, seemed within her reach now that she held that source of wealth in her hand.
"'Tain't stealin', I hope," thought Nance. "Course not. I don' know who it belongs to."
When alone, Nance took out the thimble. What a dainty little thing it was! She tried it on each of her hard, bony fingers, and laughed to see the poor grimy things wearing a golden crown.
Why, there were letters on it!
"Reel writin'!" cried Nance, as she paused under a street lamp to spell the word by its light.
"Onst I could read writin'. That first mus' be a capertin—that's what they call them big fellers that stands first—a kin' of a Gennyrel with his soljers. Oh! I don' know the capertins—never got acquainted when I went to school; common letters was good enough for me.
"That tall one, that's l, an' there's round o, then r, an' then i with a dot. L-o lo, r-i ri, lori; m, e, an' then another tall l on the end—that's m-e-l mel, lorimel. Now what's the capertin's name?—lorimel, lorimel; I've heerd that name some'eres. Why, it's her that came that day mother lay a-dyin' an' spoke so soft like; an' the gennelman with her he called her 'lorimel'—no that warn't it—Florimel, Florimel, that's the name!