"The young folks of the neighborhood, and especially the boys of the boarding-school, were inclined to make sport of her; this always made me indignant, for I loved Miss Harriet. One evening we were seated in the library, having the cosiest time; the boys had popped some corn, and cracked nuts, and we had apples and cider; in those days an evening wasn't really finished without a pitcher of cider; Miss Harriet sat by the window, and said suddenly: 'Hark! what is that? didn't you hear a child crying?' "We listened, and said no, we heard nothing. Her nephew suggested dogs, and doves, and owls, but Miss Harriet insisted that she heard a child. "We were soon in the very merriest of our fun, and forgot all about the noise; but it seems Miss Harriet didn't. I don't know just when she slipped out, but just as Tom Peabody was flinging an apple paring over his left shoulder, to see if he couldn't make the first letter of my name, in walked Miss Harriet, dripping with rain and holding by the hand a little frightened boy; and he was the very boy I had watched from the window so often! He was wet to the skin, and shivering as though he had an ague fit. We all jumped up, and gathered about asking questions, but Miss Harriet waved us off. 'Not yet,' she said. 'The poor fellow is wet and cold; Tom, take him up to the bath-room, and get him some of Robbie's clothes and help him dress; then bring him down to get some nuts and apples.' "Tom went off to do her bidding, and the rest of us questioned her. 'I don't know much about it, yet,' she said, 'but I mean to; there's been some mean business going on, or I'm mistaken. I _knew_ I heard a child crying; when I couldn't stand it any longer, I lighted the lantern and went out to look around; I found the sobs came from our old coal shed which hasn't been used in six months. I listened at the end door, and I heard the little fellow sob out: "I know you are able to do it, O, Lord, and if you _only would_!" Then I walked around to the other door, and found it was fastened on the outside by a good-sized rope slipped through the latch, and wound around the big nail. Of course I unfastened it and walked in; and here was this little morsel crouched in a corner, dripping with rain, as it pelted down on him from the roof. He seemed dreadfully scared at seeing me, and began to protest that he had done nothing wrong, and did not want to be hiding there; but I told him to come in and get warm, and then we would talk about it.'