The children passed Mrs. Sibling's window as she was having supper. The corner lamp had just gone on, and no one had passed on the street for a long while. They straggled across the window, which she faced like a companion across table; one family, she thought, poor and dignified -for Mrs. Sibling, although retired, never would cease to be a social worker-all different sizes, of whom first one and then another took the lead in a pseudopodic motion from the mass, only to draw in uncertainly. They progressed as slowly as the littlest boy who dragged his feet and was growing chilly in his sun suit. Reaching the corner lamp, they stood swaying under it, looking up at the street sign. Then they turned back.
"The Lost Children,"
Manuscripts: Vol. 13
, Article 12.
Retrieved from: https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol13/iss4/12