It is not to be supposed that such things happen every day. If they
were to happen every day, one would get so familiar with them that they
would not seem at all extraordinary; and if there were no extraordinary
things in the world, how very dull one would be, to be sure! As it
is-- But to go back.

The beggar had stood before the area-gate for a long time, and no one
had paid the slightest attention to him. He was an old man with long
gray hair, and a faded, ragged coat, whose tatters fluttered madly to
and fro every time the wind blew. He was very tall and gaunt, and his
back was bent. On his head was a big slouched hat, whose brim fell
forward over his eyes and almost hid them entirely in its shadow. He
carried a basket upon one arm, and a cane with a crook for a handle
hung upon the other. He seemed very patient, for he was waiting,
unmurmuringly, for some one to come in answer to the ring he had given
the area-bell some fifteen minutes before. No one came, and he
appeared to be considering whether to ring again or go away, when
Lionel skipped nimbly from his chair by the drawing-room window,
slipped noiselessly down the basement stairs, and opened the area-door
just in time to prevent the beggar from taking his departure.

"What do you want, sir?" inquired Lionel, politely, through the tall
iron gate.

The beggar turned around at the sound of the child's voice, and replied:

"I have come to beg--"

"Oh, yes, I know," cried Lionel, hurriedly (he was afraid some one