On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. " "Mr. ‘Parbleu, but it is not comfortable in the least in there. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection.
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