window, stopping at each and resting his head against the glass, as if trying to see out into the night. Then she rose and joined him, as he dejectedly turned away. As usual, his face brightened when he felt her hand on his shoulder; and, arm in arm, they walked up and down the long room, while Bess talked busily, hoping to tire him out until he should be ready to sleep. But it was late before he could be persuaded to go to bed, and, although Bess went to his room often during the night, she found him always awake and tossing restlessly, though he made no complaint. The morning found them all rather exhausted, and the boy seemed worn out with his long wakefulness. It still snowed fast, but the wind had died down a little. After a breakfast of such materials as they chanced to have on hand, Bess tucked Fred up on the sofa, hoping he might drop to sleep, and retired to the kitchen, to take an account of stock.
“Only two potatoes left, Bridget! How did we get so nearly out? And just this piece of cold steak and some codfish? Well, we must make the best of it all. They say fish is good for our brains.”
