her in a
temper and no supper at hand, something would surely happen.

Peter looked at the sleeping baby and shuddered. For her sake he dared
not face another night like last night. Yet, what could he do? A volley
of imprecations from the next room decided him: he must take baby away
from here and at once. Yes, he would take her away, but where, where
could he go? Where in all the great city could he find a shelter for his
baby on this cold winter night? If he did take her away it might be only
to have her freeze to death on the street. Well, they must go, anyway.
No matter what happened to them later they must leave here at once.

Rearranging the shawl so that part of it covered the golden head, he
stooped and gathered the baby into his arms. Then it all came to him in
a sudden flash of inspiration and he almost laughed aloud in his joy as
he hurried from the room and out into the street. He knew exactly where
to go and wondered why he had not thought of it before. How foolish he
had been not to think of it at once!

One day last summer he had stood outside a tall iron railing and watched
a crowd of happy children at play in the grounds which the railing
enclosed. He could see it all now, the yard, the romping children and
the great brick building on the other side of that railing through which
he watched enviously. They were having such a good time, he did wish he
might go in and join in the fun. But he could not spare the time, he had
wasted too much already, and the grocer would scold him for being so
long on the errand which had brought him into the neighborhood of the
yard and the children. As he turned reluctantly away, two ladies passed
and he heard one say in answer to a question from her companion:

"That building? Why, that is St. Teresa's Orphanage, a home for poor
children who have no parents or else have bad ones who neglect or ill
treat them. The good sisters gather in all such needy children whom they
can find, care for them, educate them and teach them a trade so that
they may----"

The rest Peter had not heard, but those few words, spoken by the passing
lady on that day last summer, had suddenly recurred to his mind. "St.
Teresa's Orphanage, a home for children with bad parents who neglect or
ill treat them." That was their case exactly, baby's and his. To St.
Teresa's, then, they must go in search of a home. He was quite sure he
could find it again. It was ever so far away, over on the other side