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There came a year of bad harvest, and the famine was so severe that these poor people determined to get rid of their children. One evening, when they were all in bed, and the woodcutter was sitting over the fire with his wife, he said to her, with an aching heart, "You see plainly that we can no longer find food for our children. I cannot let them die of hunger before my very eyes, and I have made up my mind to take them to the wood to-morrow, and there lose them, which will be easily done, for whilst they are busy tying up the faggots, we have only to run away unseen by them." "Ah!" exclaimed the woodcutter's wife, "Can you find the heart to lose your own children?" In vain her husband represented to her their great poverty; she would not consent to the deed. She was poor, but she was their mother. After a while, however, having thought over the misery it would be to her to see them die of hunger, she assented to her husband's proposal, and went weeping to bed. There was again a moment of utter silence, through which broke suddenly Johnny Blossom’s clear little voice: “Yes, you had better,” said Aunt Grenertsen. But when he had gone into the hall she called, “Johnny Blossom!”.
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Conrad
“Get up now,” said Mother. The man looked at the boy sharply but made no reply. From his manner Bob was sure that Mr. Taylor knew but did not wish to confess his knowledge. Figuring that his silence was equal to an assent, Bob went on: “Why, there are those ripe apples. You might climb up in the tree for them, you are so small and light.” “Here is a Christmas present for you,” said John. “It is to hang on the wall so you can see it, Jeremias. Isn’t it pretty?”.
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