ON THE WAY TO THE SUN.
He had journeyed a long way, and was very tired. It seemed like a dream when he stood up after a sleep in the field, and looked over the wall, and saw the garden, and the flowers, and the children playing all about. He looked at the long road behind him, at the dark wood and the barren hills; it was the world to which he belonged. He looked at the garden before him, at the big house, and the terrace, and the steps that led down to the smooth lawn—it was the world which belonged to the children.
"Poor boy," said the elder child, "I will get you something to eat."
"But where did he come from?" the gardener asked.
"We do not know," the child answered; "but he is very hungry, and mother says we may give him some food."
"I will take him some milk," said the little one; in one hand she carried a mug and with the other she pulled along her little broken cart.
"But what is he called?" asked the gardener.
"We do not know," the little one answered; "but he is very thirsty, and mother says we may give him some milk."