“No, sir; please, sir—” stammered the boy.
“Hark at him!” growled the man, speaking to one of the stone gate-posts; and then, turning to the other, “Is he a hidgit?”
“No, that I’m not!” cried the boy, speaking indignantly now. “I wanted to say that I had no father and no mother.”
“Then why didn’t you say so at first?” growled the man. “But got no father nor mother?”
“No, s— no, no!” cried the boy.
“You’re a horphan, mate?”
“Yes—Jack Jeens, didn’t you say you were?”
“Right, boy; and that shows me straight and plain that you ain’t a hidgit. Shake hands, mate. I’m just the same as you. I’m a horphan, too, on’y I don’t pipe my eye like you do.”
The boy held out his hand, which the next moment lay, looking dimly white, in the great, hairy paw which seized it.