“Then I went in the house, and struck a match and lit the lamp. I didn’t ‘low to stay long for I’d got my plans all thought out comin’ home, but I just wanted to look into the room and see the kid. I glanced ‘round and ever’thing seemed all right, except I thought I’d better take the coal pail out in the kitchen. Then I looked at the floor and the rug and I couldn’t see no blood; and the water had pretty near dried up. Then I opened the bedroom door and looked at the kid. He was sleepin’ all right, just as if he hadn’t been awake once all night. He was layin’ on one side with his face lookin’ out toward me, and was kind of smilin’ pleasant-like and his hair was all sweaty and curly. You’ve seen the kid. You know he’s got white curly hair just as fine as silk. That’s one thing he got from her. “Well, I couldn’t hardly bear to go away and leave him, but there wa’n’t nothin’ else to do. I guess I would have kissed him if I hadn’t been ‘fraid he’d wake up, but I never was much for kissin’; kissin’ depen’s a good deal on how you’re raised. I guess rich people kiss a good deal more’n poor people, as a general rule, but I don’t know as they think any more of their children. Well, I just looked at him a minute and shut the door and went out. Then I noticed the whiskey bottle on the table that I brought out to try to wake her; I hadn’t thought of it before; and I picked it up and drank what was left, and turned and blew out the lamp and went away. That’s the last I ever seen of the kid, or the house. “I went right over to the yards to see about trains. There wa’n’t nothin’ standin’ ‘round there and I didn’t like to ask any questions, so I went down to the other end and see ‘em switchin’ some cars as if they was makin’ up a train, and I walked out in the shadow of a fence until they’d got it all made up and I felt pretty sure ‘twas goin’ south. I knew them cars and engines pretty well. Then I jumped in a box car that was about in the middle of the train. There was a great big machine of some kind in the car, so there was plenty of room left for me, and I snuggled down in one corner and dozed off. I don’t think I’d been sleepin’ long till a brakeman come past with a lantern and asked me who I was and where I was goin’. I told him I was goin’ south to get a job, and wanted to get down as far as Georgia if I could, for my lungs wa’n’t strong and the doctors had advised a change of climate. I had read about the doctors advisin’ rich people to have a change of climate, but of course I hadn’t ever heard of their tellin’ the poor to do any such thing. I s’pose because it wouldn’t do no good and they couldn’t afford to leave their jobs and go. But I didn’t see why that wasn’t a good excuse. He asked me if I had any whiskey or tobacco, and I said no, and he told me that I oughtn’t to get on a train without whiskey or tobacco, and I promised not to again, and then he let me go.