Phil, with a laugh, "you know what I mean--that I
haven't seen you before to-day."

"Then w'y don't you say what you mean? How d'you suppose a man can
understand you unless you speak in plain terms? You won't do for the
GPO if you can't speak the Queen's English. We want sharp fellows here,
we do. So you'd better go back to Owld Ireland, avic cushla
mavourneen--there, put that in your pipe and smoke it."

Whether it was the distraction of the boy's mind, or the potent working
of his impertinence, we know not, but certain it is that his left hand
slipped somehow, and a round ball, with a delicious smell, fell out of
the pot. The boy half caught it, and wildly yet cleverly balanced it on
the lid, but it would have rolled next moment into the sink, if Phil had
not made a dart forward, caught it like a football, and bowled it back
into the pot.

"Well done! splendidly done!" cried the boy, setting down his pot.
"Arrah! Pat," he added, mocking Phil's brogue, and holding out his
hand, "you're a man after my own heart; give me your flipper, and let us
swear eternal friendship over this precious goblet."

Of course Phil cheerfully complied, and the friendship thus auspiciously
begun afterwards became strong and lasting. So it is all through the
course of life. At every turn we are liable to meet with those who
shall thenceforth exercise a powerful influence on our characters,
lives, and affections, and on whom our influence shall be strong for
good or evil.

"What's your name?" asked Phil; "mine is Philip Maylands."

"Mine's Peter Pax," answered the small boy, returning to his goblet;
"but I've no end of _aliases_--such as Mouse, Monkey, Spider, Snipe,
Imp, and Little 'un. Call me what you please, it's all one to me, so as
you don't call me too late for dinner."

"And what have you got there, Pax?" asked Phil, referring to the pot.

"A plum-pudding."

"Do two or three of you share it?"

"Certainly not," replied the boy.

"What! you don't mean to say you can eat it all yourself for dinner?"

"The extent of my ability in the disposal of wittles," answered Pax, "I
have never fairly tested. I think I could eat this at one meal, though
I ain't sure, but it's meant to serve me all day. You see I find a
good, solid, well-made plum-pudding, with not too much suet, and a
moderate allowance of currants and raisins, an admirable squencher of
appetite. It's portable too, and keeps well. Besides, if I can't get