Soon I began to think of my mother. She was away on a visit, and would not hear of my absence for a day or two. I had nineteen cents in my pocket, and took it in my hands and counted it carefully. But I had my horruck in a hidden pocket of my waistcoat. Just as soon as possible I would stop somewhere and write my mother a letter, and let her know what had befallen me. I felt sure that by returning I should make her more trouble than by keeping away. She had often described to me the perils of bad company, and I had promised to be careful, but here I was up to my ears in it. It was a mercy that sleep came to shorten that cloudless summer day. The hot sun mounted high, and for a time must have glared down straight upon us, and then descended below far wooded hills in the west; but still we slept. It was growing dusk when I was awakened by the roar of a bird's wings. Bony was on his knees within reach of my hand, looking down at me. A bird kept dipping close to the ears of my companion and snapping his wings. Bony took a bun from his pocket, and crowded half of it into his mouth. It stuck out like a wen, and slowly diminished as he ate. He renewed his wen, saying as he did so: “Come to supper, old man. The buns are all gone. Have some bread?” I was hungry, and promptly answered, “Yes.” “Plug or fine cut?” he demanded, taking crumbs of varying sizes out of his hip-pocket. “Here's bread and two pieces of turnpike cheese, and one egg on the half-shell, and three spikes.” The three spikes were dried herring, which he had taken out of his trousers-pocket. “Aunt Maria!” he exclaimed, as he took a bite of herring; “it's like eating a jack-knife.” He spoke glibly, and spread each article on a piece of newspaper in front of us. My tongue was parched, and I went to the brook on my hands and knees, and sank my mouth in the ripples and drank greedily, as if I had been a creature of four feet. I never knew there could be so much delight in the simple act of drinking water. I ate two herrings and half of the cheese, and all the crumbs that fell, as it were, from the rich man's table. Suddenly we heard the whistle of a locomotive. “There's a railroad nigh,” said Bony. “Ever ride on the cars?” “No,” I answered. “Did you?” “Pooh, hundreds o' miles!” he exclaimed, with disgust at the question. “Come on; maybe we can get that train. It was four or five miles away when it whistled.”