"Han't got no 'Eralds," answered the newsboy.
Fred rushed into the house saying, "His Heralds are all gone."
"Tribune, then, and don't keep the door open," instructed the rough voice from some invisible spot. Mary shut the door all but a little crack. "Papa wanted a Herald," she said; "you ought to have one when my papa wants it."
"Thought I had, but couldn't help it; 'Erald's got a great speech to-day, and I've sold 'em all."
"Do you sell papers every day?" Mary asked.
The bushy head made a sort of bow, as the poor newsboy looked at the fair-haired little girl on the stoop, who condescended to question him.
"Yes, miss," he answered, "since ever I wasn't bigger'n a grasshopper."
"An't he funny?" said Fred.
"Don't you get tired?" asked Mary.
"Well, I can't say I doesn't, 'specially sometimes."