"Hast thee any parents living?"

"No."

I wished my father would not question thus; but possibly he had his
own motives, which were rarely harsh, though his actions often
appeared so.

"How old might thee be, John Halifax?"

"Fourteen, sir."

"Thee art used to work?"

"Yes."

"What sort of work?"

"Anything that I can get to do."

I listened nervously to this catechism, which went on behind my back.

"Well," said my father, after a pause, "thee shall take my son home,
and I'll give thee a groat. Let me see; art thee a lad to be
trusted?" And holding him at arm's length, regarding him meanwhile
with eyes that were the terror of all the rogues in Norton Bury, Abel
Fletcher jingled temptingly the silver money in the pockets of his
long-flapped brown waistcoat. "I say, art thee a lad to be trusted?"