Here he crouched with his legs tucked beneath him, his cap far back on his dishevelled yellow locks, big tears hanging on his eyelashes, and one little forefinger between his lips—the picture of childish woe. Every now and then he would fancy he descried the burly figure of his father advancing towards him, and would crane his head with an eager cry; but when the figure drew near it would always prove to be that of a stranger, and then Johnny would sob, and sink back again—a mere little heap of misery. After long waiting and fruitless watching, Johnny’s little head began to droop, and his heavy lids closed gradually over his blue eyes; he sank backwards in the low chair, and presently forgot all his troubles in sleep. It was quite dark when he was suddenly startled into consciousness by the pressure of a heavy hand upon his shoulder, and the sound of a rough voice in his ear. “Hullo—what’s this? What be you a-doin’ in my chair?” Silverlocks herself could not have been more bewildered by the advent of the Three Bears than was Johnny as he sat up, blinking at what seemed to him a gigantic form dimly outlined in the dusk: he was positively voiceless with terror. “Who gave ’ee leave to go to sleep in my chair, ye rascal?” continued the new-comer, and in another moment the little fellow’s seat was lifted up, and his own small person was sent sprawling on the ground. Uttering a choked wail, the child scrambled to his feet and gazed about him; all was strange, dark, and terrifying; undefined shapes loomed through the dusk; the lights flashing out here and there intensified the prevailing gloom; a babel of voices intermingled with shouts and laughter sounded in the distance. Two or three unknown figures now drew near to him, and one stretched out its hand. “Now, then, little man, who may you be?” said a thick voice which he had never heard before. Johnny started back, gasped, and then, terror lending him wings, darted swiftly from the group and fled away into the darkness. * * * * * When the time came for the young folks to return home, they were much surprised to find that Reed did not appear to restore Johnny to their care. After long waiting and searching in the crowd, they decided that the little fellow must have prevailed upon his sire to allow him to remain with him. “Be hoped he’ll not keep out the child too long,” said Maggie as she mounted the cart. “Mother ’ull be awful upset at our goin’ back wi’out him.” “She will—jist about!” agreed Rosie gloomily, from the back seat. “I’m sure I don’t know however he’ll manage to get en home, without he carries en all the way, and he’s a pretty good weight, Johnny is.” “Somebody ’ull give ’em a lift, you mid be sure,” said optimistic Tom, from his place next Rosie. “’Tis wonderful how things do fall out. There now, d’ye see, I never looked for gettin’ a ride in sich pleasant company.”