"We'll talk about that after Monday. We shall have more time then."
"Shall I come up to-night, then?"
"Yes, come."
Julius strolled away with his blacking-box, and Paul was left to his reflections.
"He'll make a good boy if he's only encouraged," said Paul to himself. "I don't know what would have become of me if I'd been brought up by burglars like him. There's nothing like having a good mother. There ain't any excuse for a boy going wrong if he's got a good mother."
Paul was right. Our destinies are decided more than we know by circumstances. If the street boys, brought up to a familiarity with poverty, and often with vice and crime, go astray, we should pity as well as condemn, and if we have it in our power to make the conditions of life more favorable for any, it is our duty, as the stewards of our common Father, to do what we can.
It occurred to Paul that he had no old clothes to give Julius, all his wardrobe, not very extensive at the best, having been burned up in the fire which consumed his old home. As he had told Julius to come up, it was necessary that he should have something to give him, and he therefore decided to provide himself at a second-hand clothing store. He knew well enough where they were to be found. His old street companions used to go to Chatham street and Baxter street in search of clothing, and these localities, though not distinguished for fashion, are at least reasonable in their scale of prices.
A little earlier than usual Paul closed his stand, and walked across the City Hall Park and up Chatham street to a store he had frequently seen. Like most of its class, it had a large portion of its stock displayed outside, where the proprietor stood, keen-eyed and watchful, on the lookout for customers.
"Can I sell you something this afternoon?" he asked, obsequiously, as Paul halted in front of his store.
"That depends upon whether I see anything that suits me," answered Paul.