his daughter's letter from his waistcoat pocket and read
it aloud to Tony, who listened with undivided interest.

"Then she's your own little 'un," he said, with a sigh of disappointment.
"You'll never give her up to me, if you get tired of her,--nor to the
p'lice neither," he added, with a brightening face.

"No, no, no!" answered Oliver, emphatically. "Besides, her mother's
coming on Friday. I wouldn't give her up for all the world, bless her!"

"And he's 'listed!" said Tony, in a tone of envy. "They wouldn't take me
yet a while, if I offered to go. But who's that she speaks of?--'for
Christ's sake, if I am worthy to use his name.' Who is he?"

"Don't you know?" asked Oliver.

"No, never heard tell of him before," he answered. "Is he any friend o'
yours?" [A]

[Footnote A: It may be necessary to assure some readers that this
ignorance is not exaggerated. The City Mission Reports, and similar
records, show that such cases are too frequent.]

"Ay!" said Oliver; "he's my only friend, my best friend. And he's my
master, besides."

"And she thinks he'd be angry if you turned the little girl away?"
pursued Tony.

"Yes, yes; he'd be very angry," said old Oliver, thoughtfully; "it 'ud
grieve him to his heart. Why, he's always loved little children, and
never had them turned away from himself, whatever he was doing. If she
hadn't been my own little girl, I daren't have turned her out of my
doors. No, no, dear Lord, thee knows as I'd have taken care of her, for
thy sake."

He spoke absently, in a low voice, as though talking to some person
whom Tony could not see, and the boy was silent a minute or two,
thinking busily.

"How long have you worked for that master o' yours?" he asked, at last.

"Not very long," replied Oliver, regretfully. "I used to fancy I was
working for him years and years ago; but, dear me! it was poor sort
o'work; and now I can't do very much. Only he knows how old I am, and he
doesn't care so that I love him, which I do, Tony."

"I should think so!" said the boy, falling again into busy thought, from
which he aroused himself by getting up from his box, and rubbing his
fingers through his wet and tangled hair.

"He takes to children and little 'uns?" he said, in a questioning tone.

"Ay, dearly!" answered old Oliver.

"I reckon he'd scarcely take me for a man yet," said Tony, at the same
time drawing himself up to his full height; "though I don't know as I
should care to work for him. I'