"Are you not Pete ?" he asked.
The delicate face grew sad: "No, no, no," he said in a low moaning tone; "I'm not Pete; Pete, he lives in here;" he touched himself on the breast.

"I am--I am--" A look of hopeless bewilderment crept into his eyes; "I don't know who I am; I'm jest nobody.
Nobody can't have no name, can he ?" He stood with downcast head; then suddenly he raised his face and the shadows lifted, as he said, "But Pete he knows, Mister, ask Pete." A sudden thought came to Mr.Howitt.

"Who is your father, my boy ?" Instantly the brightness vanished; again the words were a puzzled moan; "I ain't got no father, Mister; I ain't me; nobody can't have no father, can he ?" The other spoke quickly; "But Pete had a father; who was Pete's father ?" Instantly the gloom was gone and the face was bright again.

"Sure, Mister, Pete's got a father; don't you know?
Everybody knows that.

Look!" He pointed upward to a break in the trees, to a large cumulus cloud that had assumed a fantastic shape.