"all alive" afterwards. But grandmamma was coming downstairs, and I had
no time to answer him. By and by, when I was lying back on the soft
cushions stroking grandmamma's pretty white fur, I told her all my
puzzle.

"Ah, my pet," she said, "poor Gus had a very cruel French father, and
doesn't know any better. He ran away from home when your uncle's ship
was touching at Marseilles, and hid himself in the hold. They found him
when they got out to sea--a little stowaway the sailors called him--and
your uncle liked his dark, pitiful eyes, and was very kind to him; but
he has not learnt much yet that's good. Don't have too much to say to
him, my darling!"

Well, it wasn't very likely I should, for he and I found it not very
easy to understand each other; yet he liked to do anything he could for
me, and was always watching to see what I wanted.

Nearly a year after that, I remember, it was very cold, and the little
southern boy felt it especially. He had grown ever so tall and thin, but
not strong, and he went about looking blue and shivery. How I came to be
still at the Park I will tell you in another place, but there I was, and
my friend Gus won my pity by his wretched looks. I used to look at his
blue hands, and wonder what could be done. At last I remembered a pair
of warm knitted gloves, that had been given me, which I never wore.
They had no fingers, only a thumb, and I doubted whether Gus would wear
them; but I made up my mind that he would be glad anyhow to keep his
chilblains from the wind.

I don't think I shall ever forget his look when I presented them to him,
holding them by the pretty blue wool which fastened them together. That