“Because I am unhappy; I have no home,” replied Joey.
“No home!” said the little girl; “it is boys who are in rags and starving, who have no home, not young gentlemen dressed as you are.”
“But I have left my home,” replied Joey.
“Then go back again—how glad they will be to see you!”
“Yes, indeed they would,” replied Joey, “but I must not.”
“You have not done anything wrong, have you? No, I’m sure you have not—you must have been (be) a good boy, or you would not have prayed.”
“No, I have done nothing wrong, but I must not tell you any more.”
Indeed, Joey was much more communicative with the little girl than he would have been with anybody else; but he had been surprised into it, and, moreover, he had no fear of being betrayed by such innocence. He now recollected himself, and changed the conversation.
“And where are you going to?” inquired he.
“I am going to school at Gravesend. I go there every morning, and stay till the evening. This is my dinner in my basket. Are you hungry?”