in looking
again at the lad, who, ragged and miserable as he was, was anything but
a "vagabond."

On their way home a downpour of rain had drawn Mr. Fletcher and his son
Phineas to shelter in the covered alley that led to Sally's house. Mr.
Fletcher pushed the little hand-carriage in which his weak and ailing
son was seated into the alley. The ragged boy, who had also been
sheltering there, lent a hand in bringing Phineas out of the rain, Mr.
Fletcher saying to him kindly, after Sally's outburst, "Thee need not go
into the wet. Keep close to the wall, and there will be shelter enough
both for us and thee."

Mr. Fletcher was a wealthy tanner in Norton Bury. Years ago his wife had
died, leaving him with their only child, Phineas, now a sickly boy of
sixteen.

The ragged lad, who had seemed very grateful for the Quaker's kind words
to him, stood leaning idly against the wall, looking at the rain that
splashed on the pavement of the High Street. He was a boy perhaps of
fourteen years; but, despite his serious and haggard face, he was tall
and strongly built, with muscular limbs and square, broad shoulders, so
that he looked seventeen or more. The puny boy in the hand-carriage was
filled with admiration for the manly bearing of the poor lad.

The rain at length gave promise of ceasing, and Mr. Fletcher, pulling
out his great silver watch, never known to be wrong, said, "Twenty-three
minutes lost by this shower. Phineas, my son, how am I to get thee home?
Unless thee wilt go with me to the tanyard--"

Phineas shook his head, and his father then called to Sally Watkins if
she knew of anyone who would wheel him home. But at the moment Sally did
not hear, and the ragged boy mustered courage to speak for the first
time?"

"Sir, I want work; may I earn a penny?" he said, taking off his tattered
old cap and looking straight into Mr. Fletcher's face. The old man
scanned the honest face of the lad very closely.

"What is thy name, lad?"

"John Halifax."

"Where dost thee come from?"

"Cornwall."

"Hast thee any parents living?"

The lad answered that he had not, and to many other questions with which
the tanner plied him he returned straightforward answers. He was
promised a groat if he would see Phineas safely home when the rain had
ceased, and was asked if he would care to take the piece of silver now.

"Not till I've earned it, sir," said the Cornish lad. So Mr. Fletcher
slipped the money into his boy's hand and