. I can't--I don't--and so there's a
pit dug between me, and them that can and do. There's others like me.
You might tell 'em off by hundreds and by thousands, sooner than by
ones."

Trotty knew that he spoke the truth in this, and shook his head to
signify as much.

"I've got a bad name this way," said Fern; "and I'm not likely, I'm
afeared, to get a better. 'Tan't lawful to be out of sorts, and I AM out
of sorts, though God knows, I'd sooner bear a cheerful spirit if I
could. Well! I don't know as this Alderman could hurt _me_ much by
sending me to gaol; but without a friend to speak a word for me, he
might do it; and you see--!" pointing downward with his finger, at the
child.

He sunk his voice so low, and gazed upon her with an air so stern and
strange, that Toby, to divert the current of his thoughts, inquired if
his wife were living.

"I never had one," he returned, shaking his head. "She's my brother's
child: a orphan. Nine year old, though you'd hardly think it; but she's
tired and worn out now. They'd have taken care on her in the
Union--eight and twenty mile away from where we live--between four walls
(as they took care of my old father when he couldn't work no more,
though he didn't trouble 'em long); but I took her instead, and she's
lived with me ever since. Her mother had a friend once, in London here.
We are trying to find her, and to find work too; but it's a large place.
Never mind. More room for us to walk about in, Lilly!"

Meeting the child's eyes with a smile which melted Toby more than tears,
he shook him by the hand.

"I don't so much as know your name," he said, "but I've opened my heart
free to you, for I'm thankful to you; with good reason. I'll take your
advice and keep clear of this--"

"Justice," suggested Toby.

"Ah!" he said. "If that's the name they give him. This Justice. And
to-morrow will try whether there's better fortun' to be met with
somewheres near London. Goodnight. A Happy New Year!"

"Stay!" cried Trotty, catching at his hand, as he relaxed his grip.
"Stay! The New Year never can be happy to me, if we part like this. The
New Year can never be happy to me, if I see the child and you go
wandering away, you don't know where, without a shelter for your heads.
Come home with me! I'm a poor man, living in a poor place; but I can
give you lodging for one night and never miss it. Come home with me!
Here! I'll take her!" cried Trotty, lifting up the child. "A pretty one!
I