"Hain't he a-cryin'?" queried a milk-faced boy,
with very large blue eyes and fine white hair, and
a grieved expression as he spoke.--"Hain't he
a-cryin'?"

"Well, he hain't!" said the boy in the window,
with unconscious admiration. "Listen!

"I heerd him thist tell 'em 'at it wasn't the first
time his arm was broke. Now keep still!" and
the boy in the window again bent his ear to the
broken pane.

"He says both his arm's be'n broke," continued
the boy in the window--"says this-'un 'at's broke
now's be'n broke two times 'fore this time."

"Dog-gone! hain't he a funny feller!" said the
milk-faced boy, with his big eyes lifted wistfully
to the boy in the window.

"He says onc't his pap broke his arm w'en he was
whippin' him," whispered the boy in the window.

"Bet his pa's a wicked man!" said the milk-faced
boy, in a dreamy, speculative way--"s'pect he's a
drunkard, er somepin'!"

"Keep still," said the boy at the window; "they're