her life, another world where sin and sorrow could not enter. The
child listened, and as he left the building hunger and fatigue were
forgotten. Only half comprehending what the clergyman had said, only
remembering in a confused way that he had spoken of a brighter world;
one wholly unlike this one, one in which there would be no more hunger
and cold, no more blows and harsh usage, the little fellow started in
search, resolved to find it. Surely it could not be very difficult to
find, and it must be some place outside this great city. Little Ned
started on his search, going towards the open country, toward the place
where the moon was rising, never doubting, never fearing, but that he
would succeed. Day after day he wandered on, eating berries which he
found by the wayside, and occasionally asking for something to eat. He
slept in the open air, for he knew no fear; his brain still weaving the
golden threads; still talking to invisible spirits; his face looking so
spiritual that one was not surprised that strange tongues spoke a
strange language to the lonely boy. He has wandered on until his feet
are sore and a feeling of weariness steals over him; he looks around
and finds that he is no nearer than when he started to the bright world
which the clergyman had talked about. So he resolves to turn, to go back
to the place where he had seen the minister, and ask him to show him the
way. Back he turns on his long journey. Step by step, slowly and wearily
he trudges along, his eyes have grown larger, his skin more transparent,
and each day finds him a little weaker, but he feels that he must go on.
Strange voices are speaking to him more frequently than ever, and his
dreams are filled with visions of the new world of which he has heard,
and now he has almost reached his journeys end, but it requires a great
effort for him to move, he is so foot-sore and weary, but the voices are
urging him on and at last the building is in sight. He drags himself
wearily to the door. It is night and the door is open--the place is
deserted, but he throws himself down on the floor with a sigh of
contentment. The next morning they found him with his hands clasped and
face upturned to the skies. The blue eyes were opened wide, the lips
parted in a happy smile, and poor little lonely Ned had found the
"bright world."

The Poet says:

So many abler tongues and pens than mine have chosen the St. Lawrence as
a theme on which they have written love s