and Jennie to go quickly to her room, as she intended to take them to the
country, and the three disappeared to prepare for the trip.

It was some time before Edwin could arise, but at last, bruised and
bleeding, he got upon his feet and hobbled to a place that was not quite so
conspicuous. There he was sitting when his mother came from the house. The
baby, then awake and dressed, was sitting in its carriage, and the other
children were by her side. Before leaving the yard, she called loudly for
Edwin, asking where he was hiding, and as the child came limping toward
her, she threw him a package, saying as she did so: "Here's some dinner for
you and Perry. We'll not be back before night, but you see to it that you
stay right here in the yard. If it rains, you can crawl in with the dog."
Without any other information as to what she intended to do or where she
was going, and without a word of sympathy, the little group passed through
the gate and were soon out of sight.

To be thus left alone at so tender an age with no other companions than
nature and the dog, to some might seem cruel, but to Edwin life was already
too full of varied experiences for this fact to make any material
difference in his feelings. He did think, however, that it was very kind of
his mother to leave Perry and the birds as his companions, and no better
company could he have desired.

The small package that Edwin had received from his mother was of great
interest to the half-fed child. Knowing that it was intended for the dog as
well as for him, he called for Perry to come, and together they went to the
place beneath the little nest where the scene of cruelty had occurred the
day before.

Opening the package, he found that the dinner consisted of a small piece of