“Well, he did leave me enough for a meal.”
There was enough in the rooms for several meals and Ike prepared his breakfast—he had been accustomed to so doing. He was a resolute lad, and we will here state that there are many resolute lads to-day struggling against adverse fate, and they are doing it cheerfully and without complaint.
We will make one more statement; some of our friends have often said to us:
“It is wonderful how you can make up all the incidents in your stories.” We answer upon these occasions, that more incidents, strange and wonderful, are occurring every day than the most imaginative author could conceive in a month—incidents far stranger than go upon record; and we are not compelled to “make up” incidents, simply because “fact is stranger than fiction,” and we have more incidents and actual occurrences in our note-book than we can ever relate.
Ike finished his meal and then lay down on old Andro’s mattress to think over the past and study the future. At length, however, he determined to go forth. There was no need for him to look over his possessions; he knew every article in that room and its value thoroughly, and he had a five-dollar bill. He started to go down the stairs, and on the floor below the one he and old Andro had occupied for over a year he saw a little girl come from a room. The child was very pretty and had been weeping. Ike was a tender-hearted, sympathetic fellow. He had never seen the child before, but upon beholding that she had been weeping his curiosity was aroused. Once more, dear reader, how often do we meet people who invite our sympathies in great cities. I can say one on about every square mile as we walk the streets.
The little girl preceded our hero down the stairs, for he had stepped aside to permit her to do so, and when she reached the street he followed her. She walked along at a slow pace and several times Ike could hear her sob, and beheld her little delicate frame quiver with emotion; he could not stand it and he ran up and accosted the girl, saying “Good-morning.”
The child started back in an affrighted manner.
“You are crying,” said Ike, in a very kindly tone, “can I aid you?”
The child fixed her blue eyes upon him, and, after a moment, in a low tone, answered:
“No.”