la sitting quietly by the window. Nino stopped,
and for a moment was silent, then saying, "You didn't mean to," picked
up the paper, folded his jacket over the guitar, and left the house.
His anger had vanished; but his grief remained. He spent the evening
in tears and wretchedness, alternately gazing at his guitar, stroking
it, and then giving way to passionate crying. At last he slept, curled
up in one corner, and in the morning awoke with a cough which hurt his
side.

Now he had only his singing to depend on; he had not been taught any
useful employment, and did not know how to work. He wandered about in
the most disconsolate manner, his cough getting worse, and his grief
for his guitar, which he always carried with him, still tormenting
him. Sometimes, when people saw the poor boy crouching in a corner,
hugging a broken guitar, and crying bitterly, they would give him a
few cents. He would not beg; something held him back, and the thought
of Viola would not let him steal.

On the Saturday after he had been to Sunday school, as he was sitting
on a step, sadly thinking, he saw Viola and her nurse crossing the
street towards him. At that moment a carriage with wildly running
horses turned the corner. Men on the sidewalk shouted and waved their
arms. Viola, confused by their cries, turned back, and the horses,
startled, dashed in the same direction. Nino threw aside his guitar,
and sprang forward, drew Viola out of danger, but fell himself, and
the carriage passed over his foot, crushing it, while in falling he
hit his head against the pavement, and lay insensible. Some of the men
ran after the horses, some helped the nurse carry Viola home,--for she
was crying and trembling with fright,--and a policeman took Nino away.

When Viola was restored, she began to ask for Nino.

"It was Nino, mamma, and I want to see him," was her constant cry.

Her father and mother were also anxious to reward the brave boy who
had saved their only child, and made many inquiries to find him. The
policeman had taken him to the station-house, and there no one
remembered anything about him.

"There are so many of those children brought in, madam, you have no
idea. We don't pretend to keep track of them all," was the only
information they could get.

At last they were obliged to give up their search; but Viola was much
dissatisfied.

About a week after the accident Viola's mother was invited by a lady
friend to visit one of the city ho