him walk by the side of the waggon. The man, hearing
from poor Dick that he had no parents, and seeing by his ragged
condition that he could not be worse off, told him he might go if he
would; so they set off together.

Dick got safe to London; and so eager was he to see the fine streets
paved all over with gold, that he ran as fast as his legs would carry
him through several streets, expecting every moment to come to those
that were all paved with gold; for Dick had three times seen a guinea in
his own village, and observed what a great deal of money it brought in
change; so he imagined he had only to take up some little bits of the
pavement to have as much money as he desired.

Poor Dick ran till he was tired, and at last, finding it grow dark, and
that whichever way he turned he saw nothing but dirt instead of gold, he
sat down in a dark corner, and cried himself asleep.

Little Dick remained all night in the streets; and next morning, finding
himself very hungry, he got up and walked about, asking those he met to
give him a halfpenny to keep him from starving; but nobody stayed to
answer him, and only two or three gave him anything; so that the poor
boy was soon in the most miserable condition. Being almost starved to
death, he laid himself down at the door of one Mr. Fitzwarren, a great
rich merchant. Here he was soon perceived by the cook-maid, who was an
ill-tempered creature, and happened just then to be very busy dressing
dinner for her master and mistress: so, seeing poor Dick, she called
out, "What business have you here, you lazy rogue? There is nothing else
but beggars; if you do not take yourself away, we will see how you will
like a sousing of some dish-water, I have here that is hot enough to
make you caper!"

Just at this time Mr. Fitzwarren himself came home from the city to
dinner, and seeing a dirty ragged boy lying at the door, said to him,
"Why do you lie there, my lad? You seem old enough to work. I fear you
must be somewhat idle." "No, indeed, sir," says Whittington, "that is
not true, for I would work with all my heart, but I know nobody, and I
believe I am very sick for want of food."

"Poor fellow!" answered Mr. Fitzwarren.

Dick now tried to rise, but was obliged to lie down again, being too
weak to stand; for he had not eaten anything for three days, and was no
longer able to run about and beg a halfpenny of people in the streets:
so the kind merchant ordered that he should be taken in