ormer into a bay window and
began talking with him in a low tone. Meanwhile the doctor's wife drew
near to Toni, who on entering had pressed into the nearest corner. She
spoke kindly to him and invited him to come to the table and eat something
with her children. Toni did not move. Then lively little Marie jumped down
from her chair and came to Toni with a large piece of bread and butter.

"There, take a bite," she said encouragingly.

Toni remained motionless.

"See, you must do so," and the little girl bit a good piece from the bread
and held it to him, then again a little nearer, so he only needed to bite
into it. But he stared in front of him and made no motion. This silent
resistance frightened Marie and she drew back quietly.

Then the doctor came, took Toni by the hand and went out followed by the
sexton.

Poor Toni's appearance had made a great impression on the children. They
had become perfectly quiet.

Later when they had gone to bed and the two women were sitting alone
together, the doctor came back again. In reply to their urgent questions
he informed them about all that the sexton had told him concerning Toni's
illness and his life with his mother, and that no one had ever noticed
anything wrong with the boy before, only he had always been a quiet,
gentle child and more slenderly built than any of the other village
children.

The women asked how he had come into this condition in the summer up on
the beautiful mountain, and the doctor explained that it was not so
strange, if one knew how terrible the thunder storms were up in the
mountains. "Besides," he concluded, "a delicate child, such as this boy,
all alone without a human being near, for whole weeks, even months long,
without hearing a word spoken, might well be so terrified through fear and
horror in the awful loneliness that he would become wholly benumbed."

Then the lady from Geneva, who took an unusual interest in poor Toni's
fate, exclaimed in great excitement:

"How can a mother allow such a thing to happen to her child! It is wholly
inconceivable, quite incomprehensible!"

"You really can have no idea," replied the doctor soothingly, "what poor
mothers are obliged to let happen to their children. But don't believe
that it causes them less pain than others. You see how many suffer that we
know nothing about, and how hard poverty oppresses."

"Will you be able to help the poor young boy?" asked the lady from Geneva.

"If I can only