I am a genuine child of old Adam, and labor is the heaviest curse that could possibly be sent upon me." Once or twice during this profitless reverie she had paused to listen to a singular sound that came from a dense group of willows not far from the spot where she sat, and now it grew louder, swelling into a measured cry, as of a child in great distress. "Somebody in trouble, but it does not concern me; I have enough and to spare, of my own." She settled herself once more quite comfortably, but the low, monotonous wail, smote her heart, and womanly sympathy with suffering strangled her constitutional selfishness. Rising, she crept cautiously along the edge of the pond until she reached the thicket whence the sound proceeded, and, as she pushed aside the low branches and peeped into the cool, green nook, her eyes fell upon the figure of a little boy who lay on the ground, rolling from side to side and sobbing violently. "What is the matter? Are you sick or hungry?" Startled by the sound of her voice, the child uttered a scream of terror, and whirled over, hiding his face in the leaves and grass. "For Heaven's sake, stop howling! What are you about,--wallowing here in the mud, ruining your clothes, and yelling like a hyena? Hush, and get up." "Oh, please, ma'am, don't tell on me! Don't carry me back, and I will hush!" "Where do you live?" "Nowhere. Oh!--oh!" And he renewed his cries. "A probable story. What is your name?" "Haven't got any name." "You have no name, and you live nowhere? Come, little fellow, this will never do. I am afraid you are a very bad boy and have run away from home to escape being punished. Hush this instant!" He had kept his face carefully concealed, and, resolved to ascertain the truth, Salome stooped and tried to lift him; but he struggled desperately, and screamed frantically,-- "Let me alone! I won't go back! I will jump into the pond and drown myself if you don't let me alone." He was so hoarse from constant crying that she could recognize no familiar tones in his voice, but a great dread seized her, and, suddenly putting her hands under his head, she forced the face up, and looked at the flushed, swollen features. "Stanley! Is it possible? My poor little brother!" The equally astonished boy started up, and stared half wistfully, half fearfully, at the figure standing before him. "Is it you, Salome? I did not know you." "How came you here? When did you leave the Asylum?" "I ran away, three days ago." "Why?" "Because I was tired of living there, and I wanted to come back home." "Home, indeed! You miserable begger, don't you know you have no home but the Orphan Asylum?" "Yes, I have. I want to come back yonder. Don't you see home yonder, among the trees, with the pretty white and speckled pigeons flying over it?"