He was glad to sit down, and he said to himself that now he would
stay there, and keep a good lookout for the chaps that had robbed
him. But again he fell asleep, and he did not wake now till the sun
was high, and the paths of the Common were filled with hurrying
people. He sat where he had slept, for he did not know what else to
do or where to go. Sometimes he thought he would go to Mr. Sewell,
and ask him for money enough to get home; but he could not do it; he
could more easily starve.

After an hour or two he went to get a drink at a fountain he saw a
little way off, and when he came back some people had got his seat.
He started to look for another, and on his way he found a cent in
the path, and he bought an apple with it--a small one that the
dealer especially picked out for cheapness. It seemed pretty queer
to Lemuel that a person should want anything for one apple. The
apple when he ate it made him sick. His head began to ache, and it
ached all day. Late in the afternoon he caught sight of one of those
fellows at a distance; but there was no policeman near. Lemuel
called out, "Stop there, you!" but the fellow began to run when he
recognised Lemuel, and the boy was too weak and faint to run after
him.

The day wore away and the evening came again, and he had been
twenty-four hours houseless and without food. He must do something;
he could not stand it any longer; there was no sense in it. He had
read in the newspapers how they gave soup at the police-stations in
Boston in the winter; perhaps they gave something in summer. He
mustered up courage to ask a gentleman who passed where the nearest
station was, and then started in search of it. If the city gave it,