“Which of the two is your brother?”
“Little chap.”
“Do you live together—you and your brother and Jenks?”
“Yes; number seven, Duncan Street.”
“Have you a father and mother?”
“No. Father fell from a ’ouse and wor killed—he wor a mason; and mother, she died a year ago. We ’ad Scamp wid us too,” added Flo; “leastways we ’ad till the night o’ the Derby.”
“Who is Scamp?”
“My dawg.”
A laugh.
“Do not mind about your dog now, Darrell,” said the magistrate. “Tell me how you live.”