boy a good deal bigger than either of us came up and pulled his dirty
hair and said,

"Carry your things for you, sir?"

"No, thank you," said I, moving on with the bundles and the pie-dish;
but as the boy would walk by me I said,

"We want some breakfast very much, but we haven't much money." And,
remembering the cost of our supper, I added, "Could we get anything
here for about twopence-half-penny or threepence apiece?"

There was a moment's pause, and then the boy gave a long whistle.

"Vy, I thought you was swells!" said he.

I really do not know whether it was because I did not like to be
supposed to be a poor person when it came to the point, or whether it
was because of that bad habit of mine of which even Weston's ballad
has not quite cured me, of being ready to tell people more about my
affairs than it can be interesting for them to hear or discreet for me
to communicate, but I replied at once: "We are gentlemen; but we are
going in search of adventures, and we don't want to spend more money
than we can help till we see what we may want it for when we get to
foreign countries."

"You're going to sea, then, _h_are you?" said the boy, keeping up with
us.

"Yes," said I; "but could you tell us where to get something to eat
before we go?"

"There's a shop I knows on," said our new friend, "where they sells
prime pudding at a penny a slice. The plums goes all through and no
mistake. Three slices would be threepence: one for you, one for him,
and one for my trouble in showing you the way. Threepence more's a
quart of stout, and we drink fair by turns. Shall I take your purse
and pay it for you? They might cheat a stranger."

"No, thank you," said I; "but we should like some pudding if you will
show us the way."

The slices were small, but then they were very heavy. We had two each.
I rejected the notion of porter, and Fred said he was not thirsty; but
I turned back again into the shop to ask for a glass of water for
myself. The woman gave it me very civilly, looking as she did so with
a puzzled manner, first at me and then at my bundles and the pie-dish.
As she took back the tumbler she nodded her head towards the dirty
boy, who stood in the doorway, and said,

"Is that young chap a companion of yours, my dear?"

"Oh, dear no," said I, "only he showed us the way here."

"Don't have nothing to do with him," she whispered "he's a bad un."

In spite of this warning, however, as there was no policeman