His helplessness in accounting for himself was as affecting as that
of the sublimest metaphysician; and no learned man, no superior intellect,
no subtle inquirer among us lost children of the divine, forgotten home,
could have been less able to say how or whence he came to be just where he
found himself. We wander away and away; the dust of the road-side gathers
upon us; and when some strange shelter receives us, we lie down to our
sleep, inarticulate, and haunted with dreams of memory, or the memory of
dreams, knowing scarcely more of the past than of the future.
"What a strange world!" sighed Mrs. Sallie; and then, as this was a mood
far too speculative for her, she recalled herself to practical life
suddenly. "If we should have to adopt this child, Frank"--
"Why, bless my soul, we're not obliged to adopt him! Even a lost child
can't demand that."
"We shall adopt him, if they don't come for him. And now, I want to know"
(Mrs. Sallie spoke as if the adoption had been effected) "whether we shall
give him our name, or some other?"
"Well, I don't know.
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