notice of the return of his friend
Owlet, except by a slight nod of recognition.

Meanwhile Stumpy ran along several streets in quest of food. He had not
far to run in such a locality. At a very small grocer's shop he
purchased one halfpenny worth of tea and put it in his basket. To this
he added one farthing's worth of milk, which the amiable milkman let him
have in a small phial, on promise of its being returned. Two farthings
more procured a small supply of coal, which he wrapped in two cabbage
leaves. Then he looked about for a baker. One penny farthing of his
fund having been spent, it behoved him to consider that the staff of
life must be secured in preference to luxuries.

At this point the boy's nose told him of a most delicious smell which
pervaded the air. He stood still for a moment and sniffed eagerly.

"Ah, ain't it prime? I've jist 'ad some," said another much smaller and
very ragged street-boy who had noticed the sniff.

"What ever is it?" demanded Stumpy.

"Pea-soup," answered the other.

"Where?"

"Right round the corner. Look alive, they're shovellin' it out like one
o'clock for _fard'ns_!"

Our hero waited for no more. He dashed round the corner, and found a
place where the Salvation Army was dispensing farthing and halfpenny
breakfasts to a crowd of the hungriest and raggedest creatures he had
ever seen, though his personal experience of London destitution was
extensive.

"Here you are," said a smiling damsel in a poke bonnet. "I see you're
in a hurry; how much do you want?"

"'Ow much for a fard'n?" asked Stumpy, with the caution natural to a man
of limited means.

A small bowl full of steaming soup was placed before him and a hunk of
bread.

"For _one_ fard'n?" inquired the boy in surprise.

"For one farthing," replied the presiding angel in the poke bonnet.

"Here, young 'ooman," said Stumpy, setting down his basket, "let me 'ave
eleven fard'n's worth right away. There's a big family awaitin' for it
an' they're all starvin', so do make haste."

"But, dear boy, you've brought nothing to carry the soup in."

Stumpy's visage fell. The basket could not serve him here, and the rate
at which the soup was being ladled out convinced him that if he were to
return for a jug there would not be much left for him.

Observing his difficulty, the attendant said that she would lend him a
jug if he would promise to bring it back. "Are you an honest boy?" she
asked, with an amuse