rather hungry. And as for clothes"--he looked down on his own, light
and threadbare, here and there almost burst into holes by the stout
muscles of the big growing boy--looked rather disconsolately. "I'm
afraid SHE would be sorry--that's all! She always kept me so tidy."

By the way he spoke, "SHE" must have meant his mother. There the
orphan lad had an advantage over me; alas! I did not remember mine.

"Come," I said, for now I had quite made up my mind to take no
denial, and fear no rebuff from my father; "cheer up. Who knows what
may turn up?"

"Oh yes, something always does; I'm not afraid!" He tossed back his
curls, and looked smiling out through the window at the blue sky;
that steady, brave, honest smile, which will meet Fate in every turn,
and fairly coax the jade into good humour.

"John, do you know you're uncommonly like a childish hero of mine--
Dick Whittington? Did you ever hear of him?"

"No."

"Come into the garden then"--for I caught another ominous vision of
Jael in the doorway, and I did not want to vex my good old nurse;
besides, unlike John, I was anything but brave. "You'll hear the
Abbey bells chime presently--not unlike Bow bells, I used to fancy
sometimes; and we'll lie on the grass, and I'll tell you the whole
true and particular story of Sir Richard Whittington."

I lifted myself, and began looking for my crutches. John found and