"Why should I, now? I don't hurt it, do I?"
"No matter—I told you to go away. We don't want any beggars here."
"Shure, I don't see any," said the other boy, demurely.
"What are you but a beggar?"
"Shure, I'm a gintleman of indepindent fortune."
"You look like it," said Godfrey, disdainfully. "Where do you keep it?"
"Here!" said the Irish boy, tapping a bundle which he carried over his shoulder, wrapped in a red cotton handkerchief, with a stick thrust through beneath the knot.
"What's your name?"
"Andy Burke. What's yours?"
"I don't feel under any obligations to answer your questions," said Godfrey, haughtily.