"If it lays another egg to-day, Timothy, I shall claim it."
"All right, sir," Timothy had replied. "It won't lay another to-day, but there will be one to-morrow. It's a bird that can earn its own living."
A remark which caused Mr. Loveday to laugh, and to think: "You're a clever fellow, Timothy. There's stuff in you."
Nearly everybody within hail of Church Alley who was familiar with Timothy's face was always pleased to see him, and indeed it may with truth be averred that he had not an enemy. This pleasant fact was the reward of his willing and cheerful spirit, which invariably prompted him to do a good turn if it was in his power. But he had one especial friend for whom, above all others, he had a deep regard. The name of this friend was Teddy Meadows, a lad about the same age as himself, and of about the same build. The liking for each other which existed between these lads might have ripened into a firm and lasting bond of friendship in their manhood, had circumstances been favorable. It had commenced with a timely service which Timothy rendered Teddy some years before. Teddy, although as tall as Timothy, was of a weakly constitution, and suffered from lameness. One day, while crossing the Whitechapel Road, he fell under the feet of a horse which was drawing a loaded hay-cart, and had it not been for Timothy rushing forward and dragging him away, he would probably have received fatal injuries. As it was, he was much shaken, and Timothy had to carry him home. The parents were grateful to Timothy for the rescue, and thus the bond between him and Teddy was commenced. Teddy's father was a carpenter, and not a bad one, and being a steady man and a capable, was successful in obtaining pretty steady work. He had a fairly comfortable home, and, without being able to put by much money for a rainy day, kept his family in comfort. Their one sorrow was Teddy's lameness and his weak constitution.
It was to Teddy's house that Timothy wended his way when he left Mr. Loveday's shop, not only because of his desire to see his friend and to relate his adventures, but because he had a vague hope that Teddy might be able to advise how he was to obtain a decent suit of clothes. On the road he met Mr. Meadows, and he fancied that Teddy's father was graver than usual; there were certainly signs of trouble in Mr. Meadows's face. "Perhaps he's out of work," thought Timothy. He went up to Mr. Meadows, and accosted him.
"It's a long time since we've seen you," said Mr. Meadows. He spoke absently, and did not seem to observe how poorly Timothy was dressed.
"I've been in the country," said Timothy, "but the gentleman I worked for was burnt out last week."
"That's unfortunate," said Mr. Meadows. "There's more trouble in the world than there ought to be."
Timothy supposed that Mr. Meadows made this remark because he was out of employment, and he did not think it right to comment upon it. From a young lad to a grown man with a family it might savor of impertinence.
"I have just come back to London," he said, "and I was going to see Teddy."