“In the evening he accordingly came. I had again taken my place under the farmer’s chair, and was just falling into a doze, when I was roused by a gentle knock at the door. Mary’s cheerful ‘Come in!’ was followed by the entrance of,—whom do you think?”
“Bob and Billy!” I exclaimed at a venture.
“Yes, Bob and Billy!” repeated Oddity, with a look of great glee; “I had never thought to have seen them again! And they were so changed, I should scarcely have known them. Bob, in particular, looked so much taller, and stronger, and oh! so much happier than he had done last year! He was no more the wretched, joyless, hopeless creature, cowering in rags, one that even rats might look on with pity; he had a bright, fearless eye, and hopeful smile; and if ever a face expressed gratitude and affection, it was his when he looked on his gentle young teacher!
“‘I beg pardon for bringing Billy,’ said he, modestly but frankly, ‘I was afraid to let him go home quite alone.’
“The farmer spoke in his kindly manner to the boy. He offered him a place on his farm, and Bob’s eyes sparkled, and his cheek flushed with pleasure. It was but for a minute; the brightness and the glow faded away as he glanced down at his little lame brother. I saw that Billy was squeezing his hand,—that squeeze served all the purpose of words.
“‘Thank ’ee, sir,’ said the boy, glancing first at the farmer, then at his teacher, ‘but I think as how—I should rather—leastways I had better stay and earn my bread here in Lunnon.’
“‘And how do you earn it?’ inquired the farmer.
“‘Please, sir, I clean boots,’[6] answered the boy; ‘I am one of the yellow brigade.’
“There was such a look of cheerful independence on the little fellow’s face, that no one could have glanced at him and doubted that his bread was honestly earned.
“‘And would you rather stay here and rub in blacking,’ said the farmer, ‘than be out in the open fields? Yours is an odd taste, I take it! Would you not rather come with us?’