The Lost Child. 91 



but no answer was returned. Then we knew slie was 

 lost ; and, Squire, you never can know the bitterness 

 of the thoughts that come into a parent's heart, when 

 he knows that his little one is away off, lost, all alone, 

 wandering in the wild woods to starve, and die, or be 

 torn in pieces, and devoured by the beasts of prey. 

 My boy was away to the mill, and Shack (the name 

 of his dog) was with him. The sun was going 

 down behind the mountains, and no tidings of our 

 little one reached us. My Avife's heart was broken 

 with fear for her poor girl ; and although a strong 

 woman, her nerves were all gone with anguish. I 

 carried her to the house and left her in charge of my 

 boy, who had just returned. I shouldered my rifle, 

 and calling Shack after me, went out to pursue the 

 search. I called, and called, but could hear no an- 

 swer. Presently Shack seemed to understand some- 

 thing of the trouble I was in, and though I never 

 knew liim to leave my heels or disobey me before, he 

 became terrible uneasy like, starting away every few 

 minutes, and returning with, the greatest reluctance. 

 Now it never occurred to me that Shack, after all, was 

 the best searcher for the lost one. I was so troubled, 

 that I forgot the noble instinct and sagacity of the 



