e; it was summer time and the nights were warm. He had
no idea what the price of a bed would be, or how to set about getting
a lodging. He did not care how roughly he lived so that he could but
make his money last. The first few days he determined to look about
him. Something might turn up. If it did not he would set about getting
a place in earnest. He had crossed Waterloo Bridge, and, keeping
straight on, found himself in Covent Garden, where he was astonished
and delighted at the quantities of fruit, vegetables, and flowers.

Although he twice set out in different directions to explore the
streets, he each time returned to Covent Garden. There were many lads
of his own age playing about there, and he thought that from them he
might get some hints as to how to set about earning a living. They
looked ragged and poor enough, but they might be able to tell him
something--about sleeping, for instance. For although before starting
the idea of sleeping anywhere had seemed natural enough, it looked
more formidable now that he was face to face with it.

Going to a cook-shop in a street off the market he bought two slices
of plum-pudding. He rather grudged the twopence which he paid; but he
felt that it might be well laid out. Provided with the pudding he
returned to the market, sat himself down on an empty basket, and began
to eat slowly and leisurely.

In a short time he noticed a lad of about his own age watching him
greedily.

He was far from being a respectable-looking boy. His clothes were
ragged, and his toes could be seen through a hole in his boot. He wore
neither hat nor cap, and his hair looked as if it had not been combed
since the day of his birth. There was a sharp, pinched look on his
face. But had he been washed and combed and decently clad he would not
have been a bad-looking boy. At any rate George liked his face better
than most he had seen in the market, and he longed for a talk with
someone. So he held out his other slice of pudding, and said:

"Have a bit?"

"Oh, yes!" the boy replied "Walker, eh?"

"No, I mean it, really. Will you have a bit?"

"No larks?" asked the boy.

"No; no larks. Here you are."

Feeling assured now that no trick was intended the boy approached,
took without a word the pudding which George held out, and, seating
himself on a basket close to him, took a great bite.

"Where do you live?" George asked, when the slice of pudding had half
disappeared.

"Anywheres," the b