er.
When such wanderers happened to meet Nono on the highroad, they were
likely to be further mystified by the dark boy's saying suddenly,
"Don't I look like an Italian?" or "I am the baby that was left at the
golden house," or some other equally surprising question or
announcement.

If Nono chanced to have neglected to speak to such a stranger, he was
haunted by the thought that perhaps that very man was his father, and
he might have lost his only opportunity of succeeding in his search.

"I shall be glad when winter comes, and these black-haired fellows stop
tramping the country round," said Karin one day. "I am tired of the
sight of them, and thinking when I see them perhaps they are coming to
carry off Nono. What should I do without him? Why, he's just like one
of my own boys."

Karin was talking to Pelle. She always allowed herself the liberty of
saying out first what was in her heart to him. Now he answered her at
once. "You seem to think that Nono was made just to be a pleasure to
you, like a baby's plaything. A pleasure he has been to you and to us
all, and that I don't deny. God knows what he means to do with the
boy, and we don't. It's likely he'll have to go out like the others to
earn his living. He can't weed and run errands for Miss Alma all his
life. You must think that he is getting to be a big boy, if we do call
him 'little Nono.' The Lord will take care of him, I am sure of that,"
and Pelle turned away from Karin and went into his little room.

Karin dashed away the tears that had come into her eyes at the very
thought of parting with Nono, but she thought to herself, "Pelle is
right. Nono is getting to be a big boy, and more's the pity. How glad
I am that I have Decima for company! and so cheerful and helpful the
child is. I don't know how I got on without her so long. If I had had
my way and kept her at home, she would have been a wild, spoiled little
thing, to be sure. The Lord's ways are best, as Pelle says. That's
what I am, a poor scholar at learning. A mother, though, must be a
mother, and that the Lord knows as well as I do, and that's a comfort."

CHAPTER XVIII.

NONO'S PLANS, AND PLANS FOR NONO.

Winter had come again. Nono, who was usually of a contented spirit,
seemed continually displeased with the weather. It was now the last of
January. There had for many weeks been a pleasant alternation of
sunshine and storm, of cold and a milder temperature. The sn