creatures who are always
called by their Christian names, and never rise into the importance of
the surname and the dignity of "Mistress;" lopping off the last syllable
of the familiar appellation, the outcast christened himself "Beck."

"And," said St. John, who in the course of question and answer had got
thus far into the marrow of the sweeper's narrative, "is not this good
woman really your mother?"

"Mother!" echoed Beck, with disdain; "no, I 'as a gritter mother nor
she. Sint Poll's is my mother. But the h-old crittur tuk care on me."

"I really don't understand you. St. Paul's is your mother? How?"

Beck shook his head mysteriously, and without answering the question,
resumed the tale, which we must thus paraphrastically continue to
deliver.

When he was a little more than six years old, Beck began to earn his own
livelihood, by running errands, holding horses, scraping together pence
and halfpence. Betimes, his passion for saving began; at first with a
good and unselfish motive,--that of surprising "mammy" at the week's
end. But when "mammy," who then gained enough for herself, patted his
head and called him "good boy," and bade him save for his own uses,
and told him what a great thing it would be if he could lay by a pretty
penny against he was a man, he turned miser on his own account; and the
miserable luxury grew upon him. At last, by the permission of the police
inspector, strengthened by that of the owner of the contiguous house,
he made his great step in life, and succeeded a deceased negro in the
dignity and emoluments of the memorable crossing. From that hour he felt
himself fulfilling his proper destiny. But poor Becky, alas! had
already fallen into the sere and yellow leaf; with her decline, her
good qualities were impaired. She took to drinking,--not to positive
intoxication, but to making herself "comfortable;" and, to satisfy her
craving, Beck, waking betimes one morning, saw her emptying his pockets.
Then he resolved, quietly and without upbraiding her, to remove to
a safer lodging. To save had become the imperative necessity of his
existence. But to do him justice, Beck had a glimmering sense of what
was due to the "h-old crittur." Every Saturday evening he called at her
house and deposited with her a certain sum, not large even in proportion
to his earnings, but which seemed to the poor ignorant miser, who
grudged every farthing to himself, an enormous deduction from his total,
and a sum s