Moll or
the master of the Union!'

Alfred went into such a fit of laughter as almost hurt him; but Mrs. King
felt the more pitiful and tender towards the poor deserted orphan, who
could not even understand what a mother was like, and the tears came into
her eyes, as she said, 'Well, I'm glad he's not a bad boy. I hope he
thinks of the Father and the Home that he has above. I say, Harold,
against next Sunday I'll look out Alfred's oldest shirt for him to put
on, and you might bring me his to wash, only mind you soak it well in the
river first.'

Harold quite flushed with gratitude for his mother's kindness, for he
knew it was no small effort in one so scrupulously and delicately clean,
and with so much work on her hands; but Mrs. King was one who did her
alms by her trouble when she had nothing else to give. Alfred smiled and
said he wondered what Ellen would say; and almost at the same moment
Harold shot down-stairs, and was presently seen standing upon Paul's
ladder talking to him; then Paul rose up as though to come down, and
there was much fun going on, as to how Caesar was to be got down; for, as
every one knows, a dog can mount a ladder far better than he can descend;
and poor Caesar stretched out his white paw, looked down, seemed to turn
giddy, whined, and looked earnestly at his friends till they took pity on
him and lifted him down between them, stretching out his legs to their
full length, like a live hand-barrow.

A few seconds more, and there was a great trampling of feet, and then in
walked Harold, exclaiming, 'Here he is!' And there he stood, shy and
sheepish, with rusty black shag by way of hair, keen dark beads of eyes,
and very white teeth; but all the rest, face, hands, jacket, trousers,
shoes, and all, of darker or lighter shades of olive-brown; and as to the
rents, one would be sorry to have to count them; mending them would have
been a thing impossible. What a difference from the pure whiteness of
everything around Alfred! the soft pink of the flush of surprise on his
delicate cheek, and the wavy shine on his light hair. A few months ago,
Alfred would have been as ready as his brother to take that sturdy hand,
marbled as it was with dirt, and would have heeded all drawbacks quite as
little; but sickness had changed him much, and Paul was hardly beside his
couch before the colour fleeted away from his cheek, and his eye turned
to his mother in such distress, that she was obliged to make a sig