es, what little he had.

"I wanted to ask you something," he added, after a long pause.

"Well, ask it."

"I thought I would tell you about it, and that's the reason I wanted to
see you," said Sim, poking about his trousers pockets, just as some boys
do when they are going to make a speech in school.

"About what?" I asked, more mildly, when I saw that Sim was sort of
choking, and exhibited some signs of an intention to break out in a fit
of blubbering.

"I'm a poor boy. I haven't got many friends, and--and I wanted to see
you."

This was too much for him, and, turning away his head, he cried like a
great baby. I pushed the raft up to a fallen tree, whose trunk was above
the water, and stuck the pole down into the mud, so as to keep it in
place.

"What is the matter, Sim?" I asked again, seating myself on the log. "If
I can help you any way, I will."

"I knew you would; and that's the reason I wanted to see you," blubbered
Sim, seating himself by my side.

"You said you stopped work yesterday," I continued, in the kindest tones
I could command, for I was much moved by his apparent distress.

"Yes; I stopped work yesterday, and--and--and that's the reason I wanted
to see you," sobbed he, wiping his face with his dirty hands.

I thought he wanted to see me for a good many reasons; but I concluded
to wait until he had recovered his self-possession before I asked any
more questions. When the silence had continued for full five minutes,
it became embarrassing to him, and he remarked that he had wanted to see
me.

"I believe you have lost your senses, Sim," I replied.

"No; I haven't lost my senses--only my stomach," said he, with a piteous
look, which alone prevented me from laughing at his ludicrous speech,
and the more ludicrous expression upon his face.

"What is the matter with your stomach?" I inquired.

"Nothing in it," whined he.

"What do you mean?" I asked, sharply, rather to quicken his wits than to
express anger.

"I quit work yesterday."

"So you said before."

"I can't stay to Barkspear's no longer; and that's the reason I wanted
to see you," said he, blubbering, and absolutely howling in his deep
grief.

"Why not?" I asked, gently.

"I didn't get hardly any breakfast yesterday morning," sobbed he; "only
a crust of brown bread. But I wouldn't minded that, if there'd only been
enough on't. I was working in the garden, and when I saw Mis' Barkspear
go out to the barn to look for eggs,