a dollar a day, and
with this sum he is able to pay the small rent of their humble
apartment, and buy their food.

In ten minutes Tom reappeared with a loaf under his arm. The door of
Mrs. Flanagan's room was partly open, and he entered without ceremony.
The good woman was bustling about preparing the eggs. The coffee-pot
was already on the stove.

"It'll be ready in a minute, Tom," she said. "A cup of hot coffee'll do
the poor craythur, yer grandfather, a power of good. So he's fable, is
he?"

"Yes, Mrs. Flanagan."

"He won't last long, to my thinkin'."

"Do you think he's going to die?" asked Tom, thoughtfully.

"Yes, poor craythur. It's all he can do to drag himself up and down
stairs."

"I shall be sorry to have him die," said Tom, "though I don't believe
he's any relation to me."

"Isn't he your grandfather, then?" asked Mrs. Flanagan, in surprise.

"No; he never said he was."

"Then what makes the two of you live together? Maybe he's your uncle,
though he looks too old for that."

"I don't think he's any relation. All I know is, I've lived with him
ever since I was so high."

And Tom indicated with his hand the height of a boy of six.

"Then he's never told you anything?"

"No. I've asked him sometimes, but he didn't seem to want to speak."

When Tom re-entered the room he found the old man crouching in the
corner, as at first.

"Come, Jacob," he said, cheerfully, "get up; I've got some breakfast
for you."

The old man's features lighted up as he inhaled the grateful odor of
the coffee, and he rose with some effort to his feet, and seated
himself at the little table on which our hero placed it.

"Now, Jacob," said Tom, cheerfully, "I'll pour you out a cup of coffee.
Mrs. Flanagan made it, and it's bully. It'll put new life into you.
Then what do you say to a plate of eggs and some roll? I haven't got
any butter, but you can dip it in your coffee. Now, isn't this a nice
breakfast?"

"Yes, Tom," said the old man, surveying the coffee and eggs with eyes
of eager desire. "It's nice; but we can't afford to live so all the
time."

"Never you mind about that; we can afford it this morning; so don't
spoil your appetite with thinkin' how much it costs."

"Now," said Tom, after he had helped the old man, "I don't mind takin'
something myself. I ain't troubled with a delicate appetite, 'specially
when I've been up and at work for two hours."

"Did you make much, Tom?"

"Well, I ain't made my