or.

"Drink, I s'pose," said the other.

"No, sir," said Sam.

"When did you taste food last?" continued the other.

"Yesterday morning," said Sam, clearing a soft piece of bread from his
teeth with his tongue.

"Could you take something?" inquired the other.

Sam smiled expectantly and took a seat. He heard his new friend order
a pot, and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, tried to think of
something nice to say as he drank it. Then his blood froze in his veins,
and his jaw dropped as the other came from the counter and held out half
a loaf.

"There, my man," he said kindly, "put that inside you."

Sam took it and tried to put it into his pocket, and repeating his old
tale about taking it home to the children, rose to depart.

"You eat that, and I'll give you a couple of loaves to take home to
them," said the other.

The bread fell from Sam's nerveless fingers and rolled on to the floor.
A bystander picked it up, and wiping it on his coat, returned it to him.

"Go on," said the big man, taking a deep draught of his beer--"eat
away."

"I must see my children eat first," said Sam in a broken voice.

"You eat that bread or I'll call a policeman and give you in charge,"
said the other, raising his voice. "I believe you're an impostor.
Where's your hawker's license?"

In a state bordering upon frenzy Sam bit off a piece of the bread and
tried to swallow it. He took up a water-bottle and drank some of the
contents, and within five minutes had swallowed as many mouthfuls.

"Go on," said the donor sternly.

"I won't," said Sam fiercely; "damned if I will!"

The other rose and went to the door. "Just step this way a minute,
constable," he said quietly.

He stood aside, and, as Sam paused with the bread in his hand, the
door opened and Dick and Henry entered, and shaking their heads, gazed
sorrowfully upon him. The big man sat down and laughed until he cried as
Sam, realizing the plot of which he had been the victim, flung the
bread at Henry and made for the door. He went down the road mad
with indignation, and with a firm resolve to have no more to do with
bootlaces, pitched them away.

"Hallo, Sam!" cried a figure from the other side of the road. "Any
luck?"

Sam shook his head speechlessly.

"You've been drinkin," said the cook as he came over.

"I ain't," said Sam. Then a base idea occurred to him, and he took the
other by the arm.

"There's a pub down here, cook," he said in a trembling