And the ship is silent till the day begins again.
ANDY'S BRAVE DEED.
"A
rthur! Arthur!" Kitty called, as she ran down the garden path.
Her brother was lying under the beech-trees at the foot of the garden. A copy-book lay on the grass before him, in which he was writing with a pencil. Arthur wrote poems, and histories, and tragedies, which he and his companions acted for the edification of their relations and friends. At this moment he was composing a story which he intended should be very thrilling. He had only got as far as the two first sentences.
"Charles was determined to have some adventures. So he went into a wood and met a tiger."
At this point he heard his sister calling to him.
"What is it, Kitty? I wish you wouldn't interrupt me just now. I'm very, very busy."
"Oh, Arthur, I wish you would come and see a little boy who's at the gate. He looks so hungry."
Arthur rose somewhat slowly, and went to the boy. Like all authors, he didn't much like being called away in the full swing of literary production. He proceeded to a little side gate which opened on to the highway and the open fields beyond. Here Arthur found a boy about a year younger than himself, bareheaded and barefooted, without a coat, and with a very worn and ragged shirt and trousers. The little fellow looked both tired and hungry, and his wearied look would have touched harder hearts than those of Arthur and Kitty.