"What does she do?"
"Oh, she goes out washing."
"Poor boy, I suppose you have a hard time."
"Yes," said Sam; "some days we don't get anything to eat."
"O papa, isn't it dreadful?" said Clara, her warm little heart throbbing with sympathy.
Her father was less credulous, and he was struck by Sam's hearty appearance. Certainly he looked very unlike a boy who did not have enough to eat.
"You don't look as if you suffered much from hunger, my boy," said he, with a penetrating look.
"I had a good dinner yesterday," said Sam. "A gentleman gave me some money for showing him the way to the 'Tribune' office."
"One dinner seems to have done you a great deal of good," said the man.
"It always does me good," said Sam, and here he had no occasion to tell a falsehood.