"His son! Oh, crikey! do you hear that, fellows? His son? Oh, Lor'! my governor's turned up at last. I'm his son! oh, gemini! But what did I tell you! I always had a sort of impression that I must have had a father in some former period of my life; and, behold, here he is! Who knows but I might have had a mother also? But that isn't likely. Still, I'll ask him. How's the old woman, sir?" said the newsboy, jumping off the boxes and taking the carpet-bag in his hand.
"What are you talking about, you infatuated tatterdemalion? Come along! If it weren't for pity I'd have you put in the pillory!" exclaimed Old Hurricane, shaking his cane at the offender.
"Thanky, sir! I've not had a pillow under my head for a long time."
"Silence, ragamuffin!"
"Just so, sir! 'a dumb devil is better than a talking one!'" answered the lad, demurely following his employer.
They went on some distance, Old Hurricane diligently reading the names of the streets at the corners. Presently he stopped again, bewildered, and after gazing around himself for a few minutes, said:
"Boy!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Do you know such a place as Rag Alley in Manillo Street?"
"Rag Alley, sir?"