humble, homely thing was to them precious and beloved. Patrasche drooped
his head wearily as he passed by his own green cart: it was no longer
his--it had to go with the rest to pay the rent, and his brass harness lay
idle and glittering on the snow. The dog could have lain down beside it
and died for very heart-sickness as he went, but whilst the lad lived and
needed him Patrasche would not yield and give way.

They took the old accustomed road into Antwerp. The day had yet scarce
more than dawned, most of the shutters were still closed, but some of the
villagers were about. They took no notice whilst the dog and the boy
passed by them. At one door Nello paused and looked wistfully within: his
grandfather had done many a kindly turn in neighbor's service to the
people who dwelt there.

"Would you give Patrasche a crust?" he said, timidly. "He is old, and he
has had nothing since last forenoon."

The woman shut the door hastily, murmuring some vague saying about wheat
and rye being very dear that season. The boy and the dog went on again
wearily: they asked no more.

By slow and painful ways they reached Antwerp as the chimes tolled ten.

"If I had anything about me I could sell to get him bread!" thought Nello,
but he had nothing except the wisp of linen and serge that covered him,
and his pair of wooden shoes. Patrasche understood, and nestled his nose
into the lad's hand, as though to pray him not to be disquieted for any
woe or want of his.

The winner of the drawing-prize was to be proclaimed at noon, and to the