the group, in sad and sorrowing
tones.

"My father will come," lisped the youngest of them all,--the one on
whom the others looked as but a babe in thought and feeling.

"I am weary with watching," said another, as she went from the window
where she had been looking, for so many days, for the loved form. "Our
father has forgotten us all," she moaned, and bowed her head and wept.

There was no one to comfort; for all were sad, knowing that naught but a
few crusts remained for their morrow's food--and who would provide for
the coming days? Lights and fuel too were wanting, and winter but half
gone. Even the faith of the eldest had long since departed, and he too
had yielded to distrust.

"My father will come," still whispered the little one, strong in her
child-trust, while the others doubted.

"It's because she's so young, and cannot reason like us," they said
among themselves.

"Perhaps God can speak to her because she is so simple," said one of
the household with whom words were few.

They looked at each other as though a ray of sunlight had flashed
through their dwelling. Something akin to hope began to spring in their
hearts, but died away as the chilling blasts came moaning around them.

Three days passed, while the storm raged and threatened to bury their
home beneath the heavy snows. There was no food now to share between
them. The last crumb had been given the child to soften her cries of
hunger.

"I can stand this no longer," said the eldest, wrapping his garments
around him, and preparing to go forth to find labor and bread for his
brothers and sisters. "Ah, that I should ever have lived to see this
day!"--he murmured--"the day in which we are deserted and forgotten
by our father."

The sound of murmuring within now mingled with the sighing of the winds
without. He stepped to the door; but for an instant the fierce blasts
drove him back--yet but for an instant. "I will not add cowardice to
sorrow," he said to them, in reply to their entreaties not to go in the
storm. With one strong effort he faced the chilling sleet, which so
blinded him that he could not find the path which led to the highway;
yet he went bravely on, till hunger and chill overcame him, and he could
no longer see or even feel. He grew strangely dizzy, and would have
fallen to the ground, but for a pair of strong arms which at that instant
held him fast. He was too much overcome to know who it was that thus
enfolded him; but soon