Now let me tie you." "Don't tie me," said the child, "I will be good and lie still." "Stretch yourself out," ordered the old woman, and tied the child with a rope to the board.

"If you are quiet, I'll give you a honey-cake by-and-bye, and let you play with the young chickens." The child was quiet, and a soft smile of delight and hope sparkled in his pretty eyes.

His little hand caught the dress of the old woman, and with the sweetest coaxing tone, which God bestows on the innocent voices of children, he said: "I will be as still as a mouse, and no one shall know that I am here; but if you give me the honeycake you will untie me for a little, and let me go to Uarda." "She is ill!--what do you want there ?" "I would take her the cake," said the child, and his eyes glistened with tears.
The old woman touched the child's chin with her finger, and some mysterious power prompted her to bend over him to kiss him.

But before her lips had touched his face she turned away, and said, in a hard tone: "Lie still! by and bye we will see." Then she stooped, and threw a brown sack over the child.

She went back into the open air, greeted Nemu, entertained him with milk, bread and honey, gave him news of the girl who had been run over, for he seemed to take her misfortune very much to heart, and finally asked: "What brings you here?
The Nile was still narrow when you last found your way to me, and now it has been falling some time.
[This is the beginning of November.