"Then he's never told you anything?"
"No. I've asked him sometimes, but he didn't seem to want to speak."
When Tom re-entered the room he found the old man crouching in the corner, as at first.
"Come, Jacob," he said, cheerfully, "get up; I've got some breakfast for you."
The old man's features lighted up as he inhaled the grateful odor of the coffee, and he rose with some effort to his feet, and seated himself at the little table on which our hero placed it.
"Now, Jacob," said Tom, cheerfully, "I'll pour you out a cup of coffee. Mrs. Flanagan made it, and it's bully. It'll put new life into you. Then what do you say to a plate of eggs and some roll? I haven't got any butter, but you can dip it in your coffee. Now, isn't this a nice breakfast?"
"Yes, Tom," said the old man, surveying the coffee and eggs with eyes of eager desire. "It's nice; but we can't afford to live so all the time."
"Never you mind about that; we can afford it this morning; so don't spoil your appetite with thinkin' how much it costs."
"Now," said Tom, after he had helped the old man, "I don't mind takin' something myself. I ain't troubled with a delicate appetite, 'specially when I've been up and at work for two hours."
"Did you make much, Tom?"