Chapter 25 No.25

That thee is sent receive in buxomness;

The wrestling of this worlde askith a fall;

Here is no home, here is but wildernesse,

Forthe, pilgrim, forthe, o best out of thy stall,

Loke up on high, and thanke thy God of all.

CHAUCER.

As soon as she was awake Winnie sought her brother's side again; and from that moment never left it whe