“Nobody.”
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“In that big stone house.”
“Don’t tell fibs,” said Mr. Bond; “I know the gentleman who lives there.”
“Ask him, then,” said Johnny, with his chin comfortably resting on the palms of his hands, “I never tell a lie.”
“Well, then, tell me how you came to sleep there.”
“Why, you see, sir, I was sitting on the gentleman’s steps when he came home in the evening, and he asked me what I was there for, and why I did not go home and go to bed; and I told him that I was waiting for him to come home, thinking perhaps he would give me a bed, and he did, sir, in the coach-house; and that’s how I came to sleep there.”
“I see,” said Mr. Bond, laughing; “but I hope you would not be willing always to live on people that way, even if they would let you; a strong healthy boy like you, might earn his living. Would you like to get work to do?”
“Ay,” said Johnny, “and send the money to my mother in Ireland.”
“Have you no friends out of Ireland?”