It was a cool evening, and the wind blew among the trees. A little rain had begun to fall, and there were signs of a stormy night. Where had little Janet wandered to? and where could she find a shelter should there be a storm? The sun now sank behind the hills, and night came on. Then it was dark--quite dark; and her young heart beat quickly as the wind moaned among the trees. She now felt that she had lost her way, and then sat down to weep. She thought what a naughty child she had been in not obeying her mother. At last she cried herself to sleep. As soon as the daylight came again, she awoke, and felt very hungry. But there was no nice breakfast ready for her, and no loving mother to kiss her. She was alone in that great wood. Janet thought that it was no use for her to sit still, so she rose up, and walked on, but not so fast as before, for her feet were cold, her legs were stiff from lying on the damp ground, and she was weak from want of food. Yet the more she went forward, the further she was from home, for she was going quite another way from that path which led to her mother's cottage. After a time she came to a place where she saw some dark-looking people seated on the outside of a little tent or camp. These were gipsies. At first she was afraid; but what was a little girl to do in that wide wood? So, thinking that they might be kind to her, she went to them, and told how she was lost. They told Janet to sit down by their fire, and then they gave her some food out of a large iron kettle that hung from three upright sticks. The poor girl stopped with them all that day, and at night she cried, and asked them to take her home to her dear mother. But the gipsies looked at one another, and then spoke in a whisper, so that she might not hear what they said. At last, the men and women took off Janet's nice frock, and put on her an old ragged dress. They also rubbed her face, neck, and hands with a dark juice, and then they told her that she must go with them, and she should be in the place of one of their own little girls who had died. The tent was now packed up, and put into a little cart, and all went forward into a part of the country Janet had never seen before. Now, poor child, all days were alike to her. She did not know Sunday from any other day. She had no Sabbath School to go to, nor any good books to read. Instead of the sweet hymns she used to hear sung, she now only heard the vain and foolish songs of the gipsies. The Bible, which her mother used to read to her every night and morning, was a Book unknown to these wild people. In what state of mind was Janet's mother all this time? The people of the village, when they first heard of her loss, went in search of the child. They took with them lanterns, and torches, and tin horns, to sound as a signal, should they find the lost one. Onward they went; some along the fields, and others into the wood; but hour after hour passed away, and the little girl was not found.