on one leg and now on the other and changing them constantly, stood
in the doorway, looking into the parlour with the most extraordinary
leer I ever beheld. I entertained a grateful feeling towards the boy
from that minute, for I felt that he was the comedy of the child's life.

'A long way, wasn't it, Kit?' said the little old man.

'Why, then, it was a goodish stretch, master,' returned Kit.

'Of course you have come back hungry?'

'Why, then, I do consider myself rather so, master,' was the answer.

The lad had a remarkable manner of standing sideways as he spoke,
and thrusting his head forward over his shoulder, as if he could not
get at his voice without that accompanying action. I think he would
have amused one anywhere, but the child's exquisite enjoyment of
his oddity, and the relief it was to find that there was something she
associated with merriment in a place that appeared so unsuited to
her, were quite irresistible. It was a great point too that Kit himself
was flattered by the sensation he created, and after several efforts to
preserve his gravity, burst into a loud roar, and so stood with his
mouth wide open and his eyes nearly shut, laughing violently.

The old man had again relapsed into his former abstraction and took
no notice of what passed, but I remarked that when her laugh was
over, the child's bright eyes were dimmed with tears, called forth by
the fullness of heart with which she welcomed her uncouth favourite
after the little anxiety of the night. As for Kit himself (whose laugh
had been all the time one of that sort which very little would change