a year or two, until the boy's grievances grew
intolerable, and he one day took it into his head to please Frau
Minnevich for once in his life, if never again. In the night time he
made up a little bundle of his clothes, threw it out of the window, got
out himself after it, climbed down upon the roof of the shed, jumped to
the ground, and trudged away in the early morning starlight, a wanderer.
It has been necessary to touch upon this point in Carl's history, in
order to explain why it was he ever afterwards felt such deep gratitude
towards those who befriended him in the hour of his need.

For many days and nights he wandered among the hills of Tennessee,
looking in vain for work, and begging his bread. Sometimes he almost
wished himself a slave-boy, for then he would have had a home at least,
if only a wretched cabin, and friends, if only negroes,--those
oppressed, beaten, bought-and-sold, yet patient and cheerful people,
whose lot seemed, after all, so much happier than his own. Carl had a
large, warm heart, and he longed with infinite longing for somebody to
love him and treat him kindly.

At last, as he was sitting one cold evening by the road-side, weary,
hungry, despondent, not knowing where he was to find his supper, and
seeing nothing else for him to do but to lie down under some bush, there
to shiver and starve till morning, a voice of unwonted kindness accosted
him.

"My poor boy, you seem to be in trouble; can I help you?"

Poor Carl burst into tears. It was the voice of Penn Hapgood; and in its
tones were sympathy, comfort, hope. Penn took him by the arm, and lifted
him up, and carried his bundle for him, talking to him all the time so
like a gentle and loving brother, that Carl said in the depths of his
soul that he would some day repay him, if he lived; and he prayed God
secretly that he might live, and be able some day to repay him for those
sweet and gracious words.

Penn never quitted him until he had found him a home; neither after that
did he forget him. He took him into his school, gave him his tuition,
and befriended him in a hundred little ways beside.

And now the time had arrived when Penn himself stood in need of friends.
The evening came, and Carl was missing from his new home.

"Whar's dat ar boy took hisself to, I'd like to know!" scolded old Toby.
"I'll clar away de table, and he'll lose his supper, if he stays anoder
minute! Debil take me, if I don't!"

He had made the same threat