"Did you do so?"
"Yes, sir, as long as I could bear it; but it hurt dreadful bad. Mr. Maxwell said I didn't keep them in half long enough."
"Were they better afterward?"
"Yes, sir, I think they were; but I go out so much in the snow, and get them wet so often, that they can't get well."
"What is your name?" I asked.
"William."
"What else?"
"William Miller."
"Is your mother alive?"
The tone and manner of the boy, when he gave a half inarticulate negative, made me regret having asked the question. It was a needless one, for already knew that his mother was dead. It was meant, however, as a preliminary inquiry, and, having been made, I proceeded to question him, in order to learn something, briefly, of his history.