as completely exhausted; and no
doubt the owls and bats were astonished as they listened to the
sonorous sounds that came from the deserted cabin.

Long and deep was his sleep. The birds sang their mating songs on the
tree tops; but he heard them not. The sun rose, and penetrated the
chinks of the hut; but the little wanderer still slumbered. The
Rockville clock struck nine; and he heard it not.

I think it was Harry's grumbling stomach that finally waked him; and
it was no wonder that neglected organ grew impatient under the injury
put upon it, for Harry had eaten little or nothing since his dinner at
the poorhouse on the preceding day.

Jumping out of the heap of straw in which he had "cuddled" all night
scarcely without moving, he left the hut to reconnoitre his position.
So far as security was concerned, it seemed to be a perfectly safe
place. He could see nothing of the village of Rockville, though,
beyond the open space, he saw the top of a chimney; but it was at
least half a mile distant.

Just then he did not feel much interested in the scenery and natural
advantages of the position. His stomach was imperative, and he was
faint from the want of food. There was nothing in the woods to eat.
Berry time was past; and the prospect of supplying his wants was very
discouraging. Leaving the cabin, he walked towards the distant chimney
that peered above the tree tops. It belonged to a house that "was set
on a hill, and could not be hid."

After going a little way, he came to a cart path, which led towards
the house. This he followed, descending a hill into a swamp, which was
covered over with alders and birches. At the foot of the declivity he
heard the rippling of waters; but the bushes concealed the stream from
his view.

He had descended nearly to the foot of the hill when the sound of
footsteps reached his ears. His heart beat quick with apprehension,
and he paused to listen. The step was soft and light; it was not a
man's, and his courage rose. Pat, pat, pat, went the steps on the
leafy ground, so gently that his fears were conquered; for the person
could be only a child.

Suddenly a piercing shriek saluted his ears. Something had occurred to
alarm the owner of the fairy feet which made the soft pat, pat, on the
ground. Another shriek, and Harry bounded down the road like an
antelope, heedless of the remonstrances of his grumbling stomach.

"Mercy! help!" shouted a voice, which Harry perceived was that of