es for him to eat at this time of the year. At last the craving
became so hard to bear, and his head was so queer and giddy that he
thought he must rest a little while. As far as he could judge by the
sun it was about four o'clock, and he must be a long way from Green
Highlands. He dropped down in a little crumpled heap at the foot of a
tree, and shut his eyes--nothing seemed to matter much, not even his
father's anger; nothing but this dreadful gnawing pain. The only other
thing he was conscious of was a distant continuous sound like the sawing
of wood. He did not take much notice of this at first, but by and by as
it went on and on monotonously the idea shaped itself in his mind that
where that noise was there must be people, whom he could ask for food,
and he got up and staggered on again. As he went the sound got louder
and louder, and he could also hear a voice singing. This encouraged him
so much that he quickened his pace to a run, and soon came to a great
clearing in the wood. And then he saw what had caused the noise.

Felled trees were lying about in the round open space, and there were
great heaps of curly yellow shavings, and strange-looking smooth pieces
of wood carefully arranged in piles. Two little sheds stood at some
distance from each other, and in one of these sat a man turning a piece
of wood in a rudely fashioned lathe; as he finished it he handed it to a
boy kneeling at his feet, who supplied him with more wood, and sang at
his work in a loud, clear voice. And then a still more interesting
object caught Frank's eye, for in the middle of the clearing there
burned and crackled a lively little wood-fire, and over it, hanging from
a triangle of three sticks, was a smoky black kettle. It held tea, he
felt sure, and near it were some tin mugs and some nice little bundles
of something tied up in spotted handkerchiefs. It all suggested
agreeable preparations for a meal, and he felt he must join it at any
risk.

He stood timidly at the edge of the wood observing all this for a
minute, and then, as no one noticed him, he slowly advanced till he was
close to the man and boy; then they looked up and saw him.

A wayworn, weary little figure he was, with a white face and mournful
blue eyes; he had a shrinking, frightened air, like some hunted creature
of the woods; and here and there the dry brown leaves had stuck to his
clothes. Holding out his hand, and speaking in a low voice, for he felt
asham