her, again."

That afternoon, however, the news came that the body of a tramp had
been found, frozen to death in a ditch near the town. She had
apparently lost her way and, when she had fallen in, was so numbed
and cold that she was unable to rise, and so had been drowned in
the shallow water. When the master heard of it, he sent for the
porter's wife.

"Mrs. Dickson," he said, "you had better take that child down, and
let it see the tramp they have found, frozen to death. The child is
too young to be shocked at death, and will suppose she is asleep.
But you will be able to see if he recognizes her."

There was no doubt as to the recognition. The child started in
terror, when he saw the woman lying in the shed into which she had
been carried. It checked its first impulse to cry out, but
struggled to get further off.

"Moder asleep," he said, in a whisper. "If she wake, she beat
Billy."

That was enough. The woman carried him back to the house.

"She's his mother, sir, sure enough," she said to the master,
"though how she should be puzzles me. She is dressed in pretty
decent clothes; but she is as dark as a gypsy, with black hair.
This child is fair, with a skin as white as milk, now he is
washed."

"I daresay he takes after his father," the master--who was a
practical man--said. "I hear that there is no name on her things,
no paper or other article which would identify her in her pockets;
but there is two pounds, twelve shillings in her purse, so she was
not absolutely in want. It will pay the parish for her funeral."

An hour later the guardians assembled and, upon hearing the
circumstances of the newcomer's admission, and the death of the
tramp, they decided that the child should be entered in the books
as "William Gale,"--the name being chosen with a reference to the
weather during which he came into the house--and against his name a
note was written, to the effect that his mother--a tramp, name
unknown--had, after leaving him at the door of the workhouse, been
found frozen to death next day.

William Gale grew, and throve. He was a quiet and contented child;
accustomed to be shut up all day alone, while his mother was out
washing, the companionship of other children in the workhouse was a
pleasant novelty and, if the food was not such as a dainty child
would fancy, it was at least as good as he had been accustomed to.

The porter's wife continued to be the fast friend of the child whom
she had saved