"Lady got cake in pocket, give Ernie some?" Not only did he
recall me, it was plain, but the incident that saved his life, and the
rebukes he had received on the raft for his refusal to partake of briny
biscuit, which no persuasion, it may be remembered, had availed to make
him taste--even when devoured by the pangs of hunger. I tried in vain,
however, to recall him to some remembrance of his poor mother. On that
point he was invulnerable; the abstract had no charm for him or meaning.
He dealt only in realities and presences.

A new element was infused into my solitude from this time. In this child
I lived, breathed, and had my being, until later events startled my
individuality once more into its old currents of existence. Not that I
merged myself entirely in Ernie, sickly, wayward, fitful, ugly little
mite that he was undeniably. Nay, rather did I draw him forcibly into my
own sphere of being and find nutrition in this novel element.

So grudgingly had Nature fulfilled her obligations in the case of this
poor stunted infant, that, at two and a half years of age, he had not
the usual complement of teeth due a child of eighteen months, and was
suffering sorely from the pointing up of tardy stomach-teeth through
ulcerated gums.

To attend to and heal his bodily ailments occupied me entirely at first,
and finally, finding him ill cared for, I made him a little pallet on my
sofa and kept him with me by night and day. Surely such devotion as he
manifested in return for my scant kindness to him few mothers have
received from their offspring. To sit silently at my feet while I talked
to him, or do my bidding, seemed his chief pleasures, as they might not,
could not have been, had he been strong, and active, and more soundly
constituted. As it was, no more loyal creature existed, nor did the
Creator ever enshrine deeper affections or quicker perceptions in any
childish frame. Weird, and wise, and witty as Aesop was this child, like
him deformed; and to draw out his quaint remarks, read him fresh from
his Maker's hand--this warped, and tiny, imperfect volume of
humanity--was to me an ever-new puzzle and delight. Severity he had been
used to of late, I saw plainly. He shrank with winking eyes from an
uplifted hand, even if the gesture were one of mere amazement, or
affection, and sat patiently, like a little well-trained dog, when he
saw food placed before me, until invited to partake thereof. His manner
was wistful and depre