re experienced
traveller. It soon began to dawn upon the youth's mind that he was
wandering in a wrong direction, and when he suddenly discovered a
solitary cottage on the right hand, which he had previously observed on
the left, he made up his mind to sacrifice his independence and
condescend to ask for guidance.

Lightly leaping a wall with this intent, he crossed two fields, and
stooped as he looked in at the low doorway of the cottage, from the
interior of which there issued the loud cries of a child either in great
pain or passion.

A sturdy little boy seated on a stool, and roaring like a young bull,
while an elderly woman tried to comfort him, was the sight which met his
gaze.

"Can you show me the road to St. Just?" inquired our adventurer.

"St. Just, sur?" said the woman, stepping out in front of the door,
"why, you're on the way to St. Buryan, sure. Ef you do keep on the
right of the hill over theere, you'll see the St. Just road."

A yell of unparalleled ferocity issued at this moment from the cottage,
and it was found that the noisy urchin within, overcome by curiosity,
had risen to ascertain who the stranger outside could be, and had been
arrested by a pang of agony.

"Aw dear, aw dear, my poor booy," exclaimed the woman, endeavouring
gently to press the boy down again on the stool, amid furious roaring.

"What's wrong with him?" asked our traveller, entering the apartment.

"He's tumbled off the wall, dear booy, an' semen to me he's scat un
shoulder very bad."

"Let me have a look at him," said the youth, sitting down on the edge of
a bed which stood at one end of the room, and drawing the child between
his knees. "Come, little man, don't shout so loud; I'll put it all
right for you. Let me feel your shoulder."

To judge from the immediate result, the young man seemed to put it all
wrong instead of "all right," for his somewhat rough manipulation of the
boy's shoulder produced such a torrent of screams that the pitying woman
had much ado to restrain herself from rushing to the rescue.

"Ah!" exclaimed the youth in grey, releasing his victim; "I thought so;
he has broken his collar-bone, my good woman; not a serious matter, by
any means, but it will worry him for some time to come. Have you got
anything to make a bandage of?"

"Sur?" said the woman.

"Have you a bit of rag--an old shirt or apron?--anything will do."

The woman promptly produced a cotton shirt, which the youth tore up