ple say, but there was no lark within many a mile of that dismal
street. He was certainly up before the sparrows, and long before the men
on the benches in the great lodging-room. He crept out cautiously into
the court in the gray morning light, and kneeling by the common pump, he
splashed the water upon his face and neck till they lost all feeling
with the cold. Then he rubbed his hands till they were as red as
cherries, and he was obliged to wrap them up in his ragged coat that he
might feel they still belonged to him. And then he stole upstairs again,
and lifting the latch of the attic door very gently, lest old Treffy
should awake, he combed his rough hair with a broken comb, and arranged
his ragged garments to the best possible advantage.

Then Christie was ready; and he longed for the time when old Treffy
would awake, and give him leave to go. The sparrows were chirping on the
eaves now, and the sun was beginning to shine. There were noises in the
house, too, and one by one the men in the great lodging-room shook
themselves, and went out to their work and to their labor until the
evening.

Christie watched them crossing the court, and his impatience to be off
grew stronger. At length he touched old Treffy's hand very gently, and
the old man said, in a bewildered voice,--

"What is it, Christie, boy? what is it?"

"It's morning, Master Treffy," said Christie; "shall you soon be awake?"

The old man turned over in bed, and finally sat up.

"Why, Christie, boy, how nice you look!" said Treffy, admiringly.

Christie drew himself up with considerable importance, and walked up and
down the attic, that Treffy might further admire him.

"May I go now, Master Treffy?" he asked.

"Yes, Christie, boy, go if you like," said the old man; "but you'll be
very careful of her, won't you, Christie?"

"Yes, Master Treffy," said the boy, "I'll be as careful as you are."

"And you'll not turn her round too fast, Christie," he went on.

"No, Master Treffy," said Christie, "I'll turn her no faster than you
do."

"And you mustn't stop and talk to boys in the street, Christie; they're
very rude sometimes, are boys, and they always want the new tunes,
Christie; but never you heed them. Her tunes are getting old-fashioned,
poor old thing; she's something like me. But you mustn't take no notice
of the boys, Christie."

"No, Master Treffy," said Christie; "no more than you do."

"There's one tune they're very fond of," said o