As I closed the outer door, a small voice at my elbow, in a tone broken by sobs, said:
'Sir—will you—please, sir—will you buy some ballads?'
'Ballads! a little fellow like you selling ballads at this time of night?'
'Yes, sir! I haven't sold only three all day, sir; do, please sir, do buy some!' and as he stood under the one gas-burner which lit the hotel-porch, I saw that his eyes were red with weeping.
'Come inside, my little man; don't stand here in the cold. Who sends you out on such a night as this to sell ballads?'
'Nobody, sir; but mother is sick, and I have to sell 'em! She's had nothing to eat all day, sir. Oh! do buy some—do buy some, sir!'
'I will, my good boy; but tell me, have you no father?'
'No, sir, I never had any—and mother is sick, very sick, sir; and she's nobody to do any thing for her but me—nobody but me, sir!' and he cried as if his very heart would break.
'Don't cry, my little boy, don't cry; I'll buy your ballads—all of them;' and I gave him two half-dollar pieces—all the silver I had.
'I haven't got so many as that, sir; I haven't got only twenty, and they're only a cent a piece, sir;' and with very evident reluctance, he tendered me back the money.