the water, and, drawing one
little foot into his lap, he pursed up his lips, an intent frown
wrinkled his shining forehead, and he began, in the most serio-comic
manner, to pick the row of tiny toes, passing a chubby finger between
them to get rid of the dust and grit.

All this while the breeze blew, the birch-tree waved, and the flowers
nodded, while from out of a clump of ling and rushes there came, at
regular intervals, a low roar like the growl of a wild beast.

After a few minutes there was the _pad, pad_--_pad, pad_ of a horse's
hoofs on the dusty road; the rattle of wheels; and a green gig, drawn by
a sleepy-looking grey horse, and containing a fat man and a broad woman,
came into sight, approached slowly, and would have passed had not the
broad woman suddenly laid her hand upon the reins, and checked the grey
horse, when the two red-faced farming people opened their mouths, and
stared at the child.

"Sakes alive, Izick, look at that!" said the woman in a whisper, while
the little fellow went on picking his toes, and the grey horse turned
his tail into a live chowry to keep away the flies.

"Well, I am!" said the fat man, wrinkling his face all over as he
indulged in a silent laugh. "Why, moother, he's a perfeck picter."

"The pretty, pretty little fellow," said the woman in a genuine motherly
tone. "O Izick, how I should like to give him a good wash!"

"Wash! He's happy enough, bless him!" said the man. "Wonder whose he
be. Here, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to give un a kiss, that's what I'm a-going to do," said the
woman getting very slowly out of the gig. "He must be a lost child."

"Well," grumbled the man, "we didn't come to market to find lost
children."

Then he sat forward, with his arms resting upon his knees, watching his
wife as she slowly approached the unconscious child, till she was in the
act of stooping over him to lay her fat red hand upon his golden curls,
when there was a loud roar as if from some savage beast, and the woman
jumped back scared; the horse leaped sidewise; the farmer raised his
whip; and the pair of simple-hearted country folks stared at a
fierce-looking face which rose out of the bed of ling, its owner having
been sleeping face downward, and now glowering at them above his folded
arms.

It was not a pleasant countenance, for it was foul without with dirt and
more foul within from disease, being covered with ruddy fiery blotch and
pimple, and the ey