"Oh, it was away out west. He said he felt cross and unhappy; he had
nowhere in particular to go, and nothing to do. As he walked, he came to
a turn where two roads met. 'Now,' thought he, 'shall I turn to the left
and go home, and hang around until bed-time, or shall I turn to the right
and go down to the river awhile?'
"You see, Robert hadn't a happy home,--his mother was dead, and his
father was a drunkard.
"While he stood thinking, a boy came around the other corner, and
called out,--
"Going home, Rob?'
"'Don't know,' said Robert; 'I can't make up my mind.'
"'Suppose you come on down to our house, and we'll have a game of ball?'
"Still Robert waited. He was fond of playing ball,--that was
certain,--and he liked company better than to walk alone; why he should
think of wandering off down to the river by himself he was sure he didn't
know. Still something seemed to keep saying to him, 'Go this way--turn to
the right; come, go to the river, 'until he said at last,--
"'No; I guess I'll take a walk this way first.
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