"Yes," said Mrs. Maclntyre; "and when this little tramp is sent away, I
want the children to go there often. I asked him if he could not teach
them this spring, at least make a beginning with them in natural
history, and he appeared much pleased. He is as poor as a church mouse,
and would be very glad of the money."

"That reminds me," said Miss Allison, "he asked me if the boys could
not come down to see Jonesy this afternoon, and bring the bear. He
thought it would give the little fellow so much pleasure, and might help
him to forget his suffering."

Mrs. MacIntyre hesitated. "I do not believe their mother would like it,"
she answered. "Sydney is careful enough about their associates, but
Elise is doubly particular. You can imagine how much badness this child
must know when you remember how he has been reared. He told me that his
name is Jones Carter, and that he cannot remember ever having a father
or a mother. I questioned him very closely this morning. He comes from
the worst of the Chicago slums. He slept in the cellar of one of its
poorest tenement houses, and lived in the gutters. He has a brother only
a little older, who is a bootblack. On days when shines were plentiful
they had something to eat, otherwise they starved or begged."

"Poor little lamb," murmured Miss Allison.

"It was by the brother's advice he came away with that tramp," continued
Mrs. MacIntyre. "He had gotten possession of that trained bear in some
way, and probably took a fancy to Jones because he could whistle and
dance all sorts of jigs. He probably thought it would be a good thing to
have a child with him to work on peoples' sympathies. They walked all
the way from Chicago to Lloydsborough, Jones told me, excepting three