as she used to be, she would
find out I never eats her broken wittles, and then she'd know as I must
get something somewheres."

"Doesn't she watch you, then?"

"O' course she do. Don't she just! But I make believe and drop it in my
lap, and then hitch it into my pocket."

"What would she do if she found you out?"

"She never give me no more."

"But you don't want it!"

"Yes, I do want it."

"What do you do with it, then?"

"Give it to cripple Jim."

"Who's cripple Jim?"

"A boy in the Row. His mother broke his leg when he wur a kid, so he's
never come to much; but he's a good boy, is Jim, and I love Jim dearly.
I always keeps off a penny for Jim--leastways as often as I can.--But
there I must sweep again, for them busses makes no end o' dirt."

"Diamond! Diamond!" cried his father, who was afraid he might get no
good by talking to the girl; and Diamond obeyed, and got up again
upon the box. He told his father about the gentleman, and what he had
promised him if he would learn to read, and showed him the gentleman's
card.

"Why, it's not many doors from the Mews!" said his father, giving him
back the card. "Take care of it, my boy, for it may lead to something.
God knows, in these hard times a man wants as many friends as he's ever
likely to get."

"Haven't you got friends enough, father?" asked Diamond.

"Well, I have no right to complain; but the more the better, you know."

"Just let me count," said Diamond.

And he took his hands from his pockets, and spreading out the fingers of
his left hand, began to count, beginning at the thumb.

"There's mother, first, and then baby, and then me. Next there's old
Diamond--and the cab--no, I won't count the cab, for it never looks at
you, and when Diamond's out of the shafts, it's nobody. Then there's the
man that drinks next door, and his wife, and his baby."

"They're no friends of mine," said his father.

"Well, they're friends of mine," said Diamond.

His father laughed.

"Much good they'll do you!" he said.

"How do you know they won't?" returned Diamond.

"Well, go on," said his father.

"Then there's Jack and Mr. Stonecrop, and, deary me! not to have
mentioned Mr. Coleman and Mrs. Coleman, and Miss Coleman, and Mrs.
Crump. And then there's the clergyman that spoke to me in the garden
that day the tree was blown down."

"What's his name!"

"I don't know his name."

"Where does he live?"

"I don't know."

"How can you count him, th