e; he'll be very good
to you, never fear."

So Bonny looked up then, and replied, simply, "I came; I was hungry, and
I came."

The host cleared his throat, and said, heartily, while he patted Bonny's
curls, "Well, I didn't expect you, that's a fact; but we'll give you
just as good a dinner, for all that. A dinner?--I'll warrant you we
will: and upon my word, ladies and gentlemen, I rather think the
Metropolis Hotel is honored to have the chance."

Never, never had Bonny imagined such a dinner as he ate that day. The
lady who sat by his side cut up the chicken, and helped him choose among
the lavish dainties that the host kept insisting on having brought for
him to taste.

Hungry? It seemed to Bonny that he never in this world could be hungry
again.

His innocent heart ran over, and he told his new friend, the lady, all
she asked him about his sick father, his tired mother, the little
tenement that was like the kettle that all boiled away, and the big
family that crammed it so full when gathered together. But one thing
neither the lady, nor her husband, who filled Bonny's pocket with
pennies, nor the host, could succeed in finding out from him.

This was where the little fellow belonged, and how to return him to his
home.

Street and number he knew naught about. What was his name? "Bonny
Laddie." His father's name? "Oh, John." What kind of work did his father
do? "Oh, nothing; father is sick." He had no clear ideas associated with
any calling except with Nickie's, as they found by questioning.

That Nickie peddled papers, and that Bonny would when he was bigger, he
was very positive about.

"Well, then," suggested the host, "we'll try the newsboys. We'll just
have Laddie standing by the door when they go past, and maybe he can
pick out this brother of his from the lot."

The company sat for a long time round the tables. Bonny kept still,
listening and wondering, though he understood little of the speeches and
the toasts. Once all eyes were again turned toward Bonny.

A gentleman rose and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I beg to propose the
health of the first guest of the Metropolis Hotel, who, though
uninvited, has given the patriarch of this palace the privilege of
entertaining an angel unawares."

But Bonny answered nothing to the looks bent upon him. With one hand
full of nuts and bonbons, the other in his heavy pocket, and a face of
perfect peace, the little guest of the Metropolis Hotel lay fast asleep