k along the street, an' see
the ladies there, I look at ev'ry one I meet, an' w'en a real nice
beautiful one comes along, I say to myself, 'I wisht that lady was my
mother,' an' w'en some other one goes by, I say, 'I wonder if that
ain't my mother.' It don't do no good, you know, but it's kind o'
comfortin'."

"Puir lad!" repeated Billy, putting his arm around the boy and drawing
him up closer to his chair, "Puir lad!"

"You 'member that night I come home a-cryin', an' I couldn't tell w'at
the matter was? Well, it wasn't nothin' but that. I come by a house
down there in the city, w'ere they had it all lighted up, an' they
wasn't no curtains acrost the windows, an' you could look right in.
They was a havin' a little party there; they was a father an' a mother
an' sisters and brothers an' all; an' they was all a-laughin' an'
a-playin' an' jest as happy as they could be. An' they was a boy there
'at wasn't no bigger'n me, an' his mother come an' put her arms aroun'
his neck an' kissed him. It didn't seem as though I could stan' it,
Uncle Billy, I wanted to go in so bad an' be one of 'em. An' then it
begun to rain, an' I had to come away, an' I walked up here in the
dark all alone, an' w'en I got here they wasn't nothin' but jest one
room, an' nobody but you a-waitin' for me, an'--no! now, Uncle Billy,
don't! I don't mean nothin' like that--you've been jest as good to me
as you could be; you've been awful good to me, al'ays! but it ain't
like, you know; it ain't like havin' a home with your own mother."

"Never min', laddie; never min'; ye s'all have a hame, an' a mither
too some day, I mak' na doot,--some day."

There was silence for a time, then Bachelor Billy continued:--

"Gin ye had your choice, lad, what kin' o' a mither would ye choose
for yoursel'?"

"Oh! I don't know--yes, I do too!--it's wild, I know it's wild, an'
I hadn't ought to think of it; but if I could have jest the mother I
want, it'd be--it'd be Mrs. Burnham. There! now, don't laugh, Uncle
Billy; I know it's out o' all reason; she's very rich, an' beautiful,
an' everything; but if I could be her boy for jest one week--jest one
week, Uncle Billy, I'd--well, I'd be willin' to die."

"Ye mak' high choice, Ralph, high choice; but why not? ye're as like
to find the mither in high places as in low, an' liker too fra my way
o' thinkin'. Choose the bes', lad, choose the bes'!"

"But she's so good to us," continued the boy, "an' she talks so nice
to us.