ildren.

"They had stripped him of his velvet, and feathers, and lace, and gold
clasps, and studs, and clothed him in rags, and daubed his fair skin
with mud; but they fed him well; and after a little while he seemed to
be unconscious of any change.

"Now, the part which comes next of this true and wonderful history has
nothing to go upon but the confused and imperfect recollections of a
little child.

"The story nowhere tells the age of Edwy when he was stolen, but he had
been lost to his parents from the time that the leaves in the forest of
Norwood were becoming sear and falling off, till the sweet spring was
far advanced towards the summer.

"Probably the cunning gipsies had hoped that during the long months of
winter the little child would quite forget the few words which he had
learned to speak distinctly in his father's house, or that he would
forget also to call himself Edwy; or to cry, as he remembered that he
often did, 'Oh, mamma, mamma! papa, papa! come to little Edwy.' The
gipsies tried to teach him that his name was not Edwy, but Jack or Tom,
or some such name; and to make him say mam and dad, and call himself
the gipsy boy, born in a barn. But after he had learned all these
words, whenever anything hurt or frightened him, he would cry again,
'Mamma! papa! come to Edwy.' The gipsies could not take him out, of
course, whilst there was danger of his breaking out in this way; and
after he came to that hut in the valley, he did not remember ever going
out with any of the people when they went their rounds of begging, and
pilfering, and buying rags; telling fortunes meanwhile, as gipsies
always do.

"When left behind, there were always two or three children, a great
girl, an old woman, or a sick person, staying with him, until the day
which set him free from his troubles. It was in the month of May. Who
would not like to live like a gipsy in a wood, if all the year round
was like that month of May? It was about noon, and Edwy, who had been
up before the sun, to breakfast with those who were going out for their
day's begging and stealing, had fallen asleep on a bed of dry leaves in
the hut, as soon as most of the people were gone; one old woman, who
was too lame to tramp, was left with him.

"He slept long, and when he awoke he sat up on his bed of leaves, and
looked about him to see who was with him; he saw no one within the hut,
and no one at the doorway.

"Little children have great dread of being al