164 Little Byron 



reproach that seemed to hurt him more than either 

 the boy's blow or the dandy's kick. Byron turned 

 his bewildered little head in every direction ; but the 

 very atmosphere seemed rilled with hostility. Laughs, 

 jeers, harsh words, and cruel taunts greeted his sen- 

 sitive ears, while his half-blinded eyes looked appeal- 

 ingly about him for the semblance of a friend. 



Among the Babel of hostile voices, his quick ear 

 at last caught a sympathetic tone. He could not 

 see the one from whom it came, but he groped his 

 way in the direction of the sound. Then he felt a 

 gentle hand resting kindly on his head, while words 

 of sympathy came like heavenly music amidst the 

 discords. So hungry was he for kindness that his 

 troubles seemed now at an end. And then the light 

 touch of the friendly hand was gone, and the gentle 

 voice had ceased ; but he knew the direction they 

 had taken, and blindly followed. Again the discord 

 and danger were around him ; but he felt that a 

 refuge was just ahead, and staggered on. Presently 

 a curbstone checked his progress ; then a stone flung 

 by a cruel boy crashed against his head. He rolled 

 over in the gutter, just as a gorgeous carriage, filled 



