to get thee safe home? unless thee wilt go with me to the tan-yard--"

I shook my head. It was very hard for Abel Fletcher to have for his
only child such a sickly creature as I, now, at sixteen, as helpless
and useless to him as a baby.

"Well, well, I must find some one to go home with thee." For though my
father had got me a sort of carriage in which, with a little external
aid, I could propel myself, so as to be his companion occasionally in
his walks between our house, the tanyard, and the Friends'
meeting-house--still he never trusted me anywhere alone. "Here,
Sally--Sally Watkins! do any o' thy lads want to earn an honest penny?"

Sally was out of earshot; but I noticed that as the lad near us heard
my father's words, the colour rushed over his face, and he started
forward involuntarily. I had not before perceived how wasted and
hungry-looking he was.

"Father!" I whispered. But here the boy had mustered up his courage
and voice.

"Sir, I want work; may I earn a penny?"

He spoke in tolerably good English--different from our coarse, broad,
G----shire drawl; and taking off his tattered old cap, looked right up
into my father's face, The old man scanned him closely.

"What is thy name, lad?"

"John Halifax."

"Where dost thee come from?"

"Cornwall."

"Hast thee any parents living?"

"No."

I wished my father would not question thus; but possibly he had his own
motives, which were rarely harsh, though his actions often appeared so.

"How old might thee be, John Halifax?"

"Fourteen, sir."

"Thee art used to work?"

"Yes."

"What sort of work?"

"Anything that I can get to do."

I listened nervously to this catechism, which went on behind my back.

"Well," said my father, after a pause, "thee shall take my son home,
and I'll give thee a groat. Let me see; art thee a lad to be trusted?"
And holding him at arm's length, regarding him meanwhile with eyes that
were the terror of all the rogues in Norton Bury, Abel Fletcher jingled
temptingly the silver money in the pockets of his long-flapped brown
waistcoat. "I say, art thee a lad to be trusted?"

John Halifax neither answered nor declined his eyes. He seemed to feel
that this was a critical moment, and to have gathered all his mental
forces into a serried square, to meet the attack. He met it, and
conquered in silence.

"Lad, shall I give thee the groat now?"

"Not till I've earned it, sir."

So, drawing his hand back, my fat