Warden did not know that the little fellow had awakened. He sat with his back to the sofa, and was now thoroughly absorbed in his work. He was drawing up a prospectus for the new society, and his head was bent low over the paper. By his side lay, in a neat and complete form, a prize essay, which he had taken some three months of hard work and hard thought to put together. The subject was one of the popular subjects of the day. The prize was only open to working men. Warden had every hope of gaining the prize. If so, he would win 50 pounds. His essay was complete. He had sat up late the night before, finishing it, and it was to be posted to its destination that very evening. Now, with an unconscious jerk of his elbow, he tossed the neatly pinned together pages on to the floor. He knew nothing of this fact; but as they lay wide open from their fall on the floor, they presented a very tempting spectacle to the eager eyes of little Roy. He approached the precious manuscript softly, sat down on the carpet, and began the delicious work of tearing it into pieces. For a quarter of an hour there was perfect stillness, at the end of which time nothing whatever remained of Warden's prize essay but a pile of scattered fragments which surrounded little Roy. When the deed of mischief was fully done, and not before, the little fellow gave utterance to a deep sigh of satisfaction, and, raising his clear, baby voice, exclaimed, in a tone of triumph: "'Ook, fader, 'ook!" Warden did look, and comprehended at a glance. His essay was hopelessly lost! He had no other copy! A quieter and better man might have felt provocation. Into Warden's breast there entered a devil. He caught the little child roughly in his arms, dealt him several sharp blows, and rushed with him into the adjoining bedroom. "There, you bad, bad boy! Get out of my sight! I never want to see you again." He locked the door on Roy, and might have been heard pacing up and down his sitting-room. He was in a furious rage, and would scarcely have minded then had any one told him that he had seriously injured his child. Meanwhile the little child, stunned by the blows, terrified by the rough, hard words, totally uncomprehending what he had done wrong, for Faith had many times given him old papers to tear, lay for a moment or two trembling on the floor. Then he began to sob loudly; then he rose to his feet. It was growing dark in the bedroom, and Roy hated the dark. He ran to the door which divided bedroom and sitting-room, and, shaking it cried loudly: "Yet me in--yet me in!"