As he turned reluctantly away, two ladies passed
and he heard one say in answer to a question from her companion:
"That building? Why, that is St. Teresa's Orphanage, a home for poor
children who have no parents or else have bad ones who neglect or ill
treat them. The good sisters gather in all such needy children whom they
can find, care for them, educate them and teach them a trade so that
they may----"
The rest Peter had not heard, but those few words, spoken by the passing
lady on that day last summer, had suddenly recurred to his mind. "St.
Teresa's Orphanage, a home for children with bad parents who neglect or
ill treat them." That was their case exactly, baby's and his. To St.
Teresa's, then, they must go in search of a home. He was quite sure he
could find it again. It was ever so far away, over on the other side of
the city, but he remembered the way perfectly, and would have no
difficulty in reaching the orphanage.
For some time Peter trudged bravely along the city streets. It was quite
dark now and lights streamed from the windows of shops and houses as he
passed. Throngs of people hurried by anxious to escape from the cold
night to the firesides of home. All these people carried
mysterious-looking parcels; "Christmas presents for some happy little
boy or girl," thought Peter. Twice he stopped to shift the baby from one
shoulder to the other.
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