“Where do the Cullums live?”
“Down on Railroad Alley, not far from the water tower. It's a mite of a cottage.”
Joe said no more, but what he had been told him set him to thinking, and that evening, after his work was over, he took a walk through the town and in the direction of Railroad Alley.
Not far from the water station he found the Cullum homestead, a mite of a cottage, as the man had said, with a tumbled-down chimney and several broken-out windows. He looked in at one of the windows and by the light of a smoking kerosene lamp beheld a woman in a rocking-chair, rocking a baby to sleep. Three other youngsters were standing around, knowing not what to do. On a table were some dishes, all bare of food.
“Mamma, I want more bread,” one of the little ones was saying.
“You can have more in the morning, Johnny,” answered the mother.
“No, I want it now,” whimpered the youngster. “I'm hungry.”
“I'm hungry, too,” put in another little one.
“I can't give you any more to-night, for I haven't it,” said the mother, with a deep sigh. “Now, be still, or you'll wake the baby.”
“Why don't dad come home?” asked the boy of seven.