src="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@10987@10987-h@images@illustration_3.jpg" alt="Illustration 3" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}img"/>

Overcome with fatigue, the sweet baby slept soundly till morning; but when he awoke Fidelle was gone, and he felt very hungry. And he again set up his little cry, "Oh, mamma! mamma! where is you, mamma? Oh! I want my breakfast! I want my breakfast!" At length, he spied Fidelle cantering in with something in her mouth, and having laid it by Henry's side, she darted out of the abbey. Henry took it up: it was a large piece of white bread, which the faithful creature had met with somewhere, and brought to her little favourite.¹

¹A fact.

You may suppose how happy the poor child was to get it; and while he was eating it, a grey owl marched from her nest in the wall, and began picking up the crumbs. This greatly amused little Henry; and, in a few minutes after, there came a great set of sparrows, and a robin-redbreast, and two of them began to fight. And this made Henry laugh; and, on the whole, they so occupied him all day, he was less unhappy than the day before: and, when night came, he lay down near the nest of the owl and her young ones, and slept soundly.

Next day, faithful Fidelle again appeared with a piece of boiled beef in her mouth, which having left at Henry's feet, she scampered off, and Henry ate heartily, and gave some to the owls. And when he could forget his mamma, which indeed was not often, these birds used to amuse his little mind. But, towards evening, getting very thirsty, he again began to cry, and to call for mamma; and God, who watches over little infants just the same as if they were grown men, put it into his little heart to walk outside the abbey, where was a nice stream running through the grass: and the baby, recollecting he had seen a boy, the week before, lying on the ground drinking out of a stream near papa's house, knelt down and took a hearty drink of the clear water.

And now, near a week passed over, Fidelle constantly bringing a supply of food, and the owls, and the sparrows, and the robin, sharing the welcome morsel, and affording Henry's little mind constant amusement and occupation. At length, the little birds began not to be afraid of Henry; and they would come and hop by his side, and pick up the crumbs, and almost eat from his hand. And one of them built its nest close to him, and laid two eggs, and every evening would sing such a sweet song, that really the baby began to get reconciled, and used to feel like a little king among them all. And now we must leave our mighty monarch for a while, and return to his disconsolate parents.

The evening Bill Boldface had met him, and sent him so cruelly into the wood, mamma was out walking, and on her return enquired for the baby.

"O," said papa, "he is safe: I saw him in nurse's arms a few minutes ago."

Mamma immediately went up to the nursery, and there heard that nurse had gone off to see her sister, who lived about two miles distant, "and, of course," said the nursery-maid, "she has taken Master Henry with her."

Impressed with this idea, mamma returned to tea; but when night came, she began to get very uneasy, for nurse did not return. "O," said papa, "you know she often remains at her sister's; and though she has done very wrong in keeping the baby out, yet she is so fond and careful of him, we need not be uneasy." But what was their distraction when morning came?—nurse returned, but no baby!

The whole country was searched, the ponds and lake were searched, every spot searched but the very place the baby was in. Advertisements were put in all the papers, and the poor father and mother