Little Byron 163 



out upon a cruel world helpless and confiding crea- 

 tures, worthy their care and love. 



The night of suffering slowly passed, and at last 

 came the morning. Byron was so weak and feverish 

 that he could hardly move. Some instinct, however, 

 caused him to make the effort ; and he drew himself 

 together as best he could, and wandered aimlessly 

 across the park, shivering and almost blinded. What 

 was it that caused him, in his misery, to seek the 

 very corner where, a year before, he had been sold 

 by the dog-vender ? Whatever it was, at last he 

 reached the spot, and stood there trembling and 

 forlorn. He had once been a pet, and fairly cared 

 for. Now he was friendless and deserted ; but, un- 

 fortunately, he was not alpne. A boy who was 

 sweeping the sidewalk struck at him with his broom. 

 He shrank away from the blow, and, in his half- 

 blind condition, brushed against the freshly polished 

 boots of a young exquisite. Oh, what a cruel kick 

 he received ! A shop-girl, hurrying to her store, 

 failed to see him and almost stepped upon him. She 

 drew her skirts away in horror, and uttered a harsh 



