," said the widow meekly.

"I know that, mother; but _he_ could afford to _give_ better. However,
it's down now, so it don't much matter."

"Did you hear whose house was burned, Willie?"

"A Mr Oberly, or somethin' like that."

"Auberly!" exclaimed the widow, with a start.

"Well, p'raps it is Auberly; but whichever it is, he's got a pretty
kettle o' fish to look after this mornin'. You seem to have heard of
him before, mother?"

"Yes, Willie, I--I know him a--at least I have met with him often. You
see I was better off once, and used to mingle with--but I need not
trouble you with that. On the strength of our former acquaintance, I
thought I would write and ask him to get you a situation in an office,
and I have got a letter from him, just before you came down to
breakfast, saying that he will do what he can, and bidding me send you
to him between eleven and twelve to-morrow."

"Whew!" whistled Willie, "an' he burnt out o' house and home, without a
coat to his back or a shoe to his foot. It strikes me I'll have to try
to get _him_ a situation."

"He won't be found at the house, now, I dare say, my son, so we'll have
to wait a little; but the burning of his house and furniture won't
affect him much, for he's rich."

"Humph! p'raps not," said Willie; "but the burnin' of his little girl
might have--"

"You said that _no_ lives were lost," cried Mrs Willders, turning pale.

"No more there was, mother; but if it hadn't bin for one o' the firemen
that jumped in at a blazin' winder an' brought her out through fire an'
smoke, she'd have bin a cinder by this time, an' money wouldn't have
bought the rich man another daughter, _I_ know."

"True, my son," observed Mrs Willders, resting her forehead on her
hand; then, as if suddenly recollecting something, she looked up and
said, "Willie, I want you to go down to the City with these socks to
Frank. This is his birthday, and I sat late last night on purpose to
get them finished. His station is a long way _off_, I know, but you've
nothing else to do, so--"

"Nothin' else to do, mother!" exclaimed Willie; with an offended look.
"Haven't I got to converse in a friendly way with all the
crossin'-sweepers an' shoeblacks an' stall-women as I go along, an'
chaff the cabbies, an' look in at all the shop-windows, and insult the
bobbies? I _always_ insult the bobbies. It does me good. I hurt 'em,
mentally, as much as I can, an' I'd hurt 'em bodily if I could. But
e