I had friends in the village, but
as they knew it was a matter of course that I should go away during
the vacation, they seemed to be perfectly reconciled to the fact.
As I passed a small house which was the abode of my laundress, my
mental depression was increased by the action of her oldest son. This
little fellow, probably five years of age, and the condition of whose
countenance indicated that his mother's art was seldom exercised upon
it, was playing on the sidewalk with his sister, somewhat younger and
much dirtier.
As I passed the little chap he looked up and in a sharp, clear voice,
he cried: "Good-bye! Come back soon!" These words cut into my soul.
Was it possible that this little ragamuffin was the only one in that
village who was sorry to see me depart and who desired my return? And
the acuteness of this cut was not decreased by the remembrance that on
several occasions when he had accompanied his mother to my lodging I
had given him small coins.
I was beginning to move more rapidly along the little path, well worn
by many rubber tires, which edged the broad roadway, when I perceived
the doctor's daughter standing at the gate of her father's front yard.
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