e givin'
'im 'is 'ead?"

"Do as I bid you, sir!" said Di, drawing herself up like an empress.

Still the street boy held the pony's head, and it is probable that he
would have come off the victor in this controversy, had not Diana's
dignified action given to the reins which she held a jerk. The brown
pony, deeming this full permission to go on, went off with a bound that
overturned the boy, and caused the fore-wheel to strike him on the leg
as it passed.

Springing up with the intention of giving chase to the runaway, the
little fellow again fell, with a sharp cry of pain, for his leg was
broken.

At the same moment Sir Richard Brandon issued from the door of his
mansion leisurely, and with an air of calm serenity, pulling on his
gloves. It was one of the knight's maxims that, under all
circumstances, a gentleman should maintain an appearance of
imperturbable serenity. When, however, he suddenly beheld the street
boy falling, and his daughter standing up in her wickerwork chariot,
holding on to the brown pony like an Amazon warrior of ancient times,
his maxim somehow evaporated. His serenity vanished. So did his hat as
he bounded from beneath it, and left it far behind in his mad and
hopeless career after the runaway.

A policeman, coming up just as Sir Richard disappeared, went to the
assistance of the street boy.

"Not much hurt, youngster," he said kindly, as he observed that the boy
was very pale, and seemed to be struggling hard to repress his feelings.

"Vell, p'raps I is an' p'raps I ain't, Bobby," replied the boy with an
unsuccessful attempt at a smile, for he felt safe to chaff or insult his
foe in the circumstances, "but vether hurt or not it vont much matter to
you, vill it?"

He fainted as he spoke, and the look of half-humorous impudence, as well
as that of pain, gave place to an expression of infantine repose.

The policeman was so struck by the unusual sight of a street boy looking
innocent and unconscious, that he stooped and raised him quite tenderly
in his arms.

"You'd better carry him in here," said Sir Richard Brandon's butler, who
had come out. "I saw it 'appen, and suspect he must be a good deal
damaged."

Sir Richard's footman backing the invitation, the boy was carried into
the house accordingly, laid on the housemaid's bed, and attended to by
the cook, while the policeman went out to look after the runaways.

"Oh! what ever shall we do?" exclaimed the cook, as the boy show