him."

"Very well, sir, I'll look well after 'im till she comes."

Twitter was gone in a moment, and the old landlady returned to her
lodger's room. There, to her surprise, she found Sammy up and hastily
pulling on his boots.

In truth he had been only shamming sleep, and, although still very
drunk, was quite capable of looking after himself. He had indeed been
asleep when his father's entrance awoke him, but a feeling of intense
shame had induced him to remain quite still, and then, having commenced
with this unspoken lie, he felt constrained to carry it out. But the
thought of facing his mother he could not bear, for the boy had a
sensitive spirit and was keenly alive to the terrible fall he had made.
At the same time he was too cowardly to face the consequences. Dressing
himself as well as he could, he rushed from the house in spite of the
earnest entreaties of the old landlady, so that when the distracted
mother came to embrace and forgive her erring child she found that he
had fled.

Plunging into the crowded thoroughfares of the great city, and walking
swiftly along without aim or desire, eaten up with shame, and rendered
desperate by remorse, the now reckless youth sought refuge in a low
grog-shop, and called for a glass of beer.

"Well, I say, you're com--comin' it raither strong, ain't you, young
feller?" said a voice at his elbow.

He looked up hastily, and saw a blear-eyed youth in a state of
drivelling intoxication, staring at him with the expression of an idiot.

"That's no business of yours," replied Sam Twitter, sharply.

"Well, thash true, 'tain't no b-busnish o' mine. I--I'm pretty far gone
m'self, I allow; but I ain't quite got the l-length o' drinkin' in a
p-public 'ouse wi' th' bl-blue ribb'n on."

The fallen lad glanced at his breast. There it was,--forgotten,
desecrated! He tore it fiercely from his button-hole, amid the laughter
of the bystanders--most of whom were women of the lowest grade--and
dashed it on the floor.

"Thash right.--You're a berrer feller than I took you for," said the sot
at his elbow.

To avoid further attention Sammy took his beer into a dark corner and
was quickly forgotten.

He had not been seated more than a few minutes when the door opened, and
a man with a mild, gentle, yet manly face entered.

"Have a glass, ol' feller?" said the sot, the instant he caught sight of
him.

"Thank you, no--not to-day," replied John Seaward, for it was our city
mi