o ask help of the young surgeon
who had expressed sympathy with him, but, with the carelessness of
boyhood, he had forgotten the name of the hospital, and did not know
where, in the great wilderness of bricks and mortar, to search for it.
As for the home from which he had fled, the memory of the landlord still
kept him carefully clear of that.

But Jack's mother was _not_ dead! In hospitals--as in the best of
well-regulated families--mistakes will sometimes happen. The report
which had proved so disastrous to our poor hero referred to another
woman who had died. A messenger had been at once sent, by the young
surgeon before mentioned, to tell Jack of the error; but when the
messenger arrived the boy had flown--as already described. Indeed, it
was he whom Jack had passed on the stair.

It was long before Mrs Matterby recovered, for the disappearance of her
boy caused a relapse; and when at last she left the hospital, feeble and
homeless, she went about for many months, searching at once for work and
for her lost treasure.

Christmas came again, and found Jack Matterby at nearly the lowest point
in his downward career. It is due to him to say, however, that he had
not up to that time, been guilty of any criminal act that could bring
him with the grasp of human law; but in word and deed he had begun, more
and more, to break the law of God: so that if poor Mrs Matterby had at
that time succeeded in finding her son, it is probable that her joy
would have been overwhelmed with terrible grief.

It was not exactly Christmas morning, but it was the Christmas season of
the year, when our little hero, wearied in spirit and body with the hard
struggle for life, sauntered down the now familiar Strand in the hope of
finding some odd job to do. He paused before a confectioner's shop,
and, being very hungry, was debating with himself the propriety of
giving up the struggle, and coolly helping himself to a pie! You may be
sure that bad invisible spirits were at his elbow just then to encourage
him. But God sent a good angel also, and she was visible--being in the
form of a thin little old lady.

"You'd like a bun, I know," she said, putting a penny into Jack's hand.

"God bless you, ma'am--yes," burst from the astonished boy.

"Go in and buy one. Then, come and tell me all about you."

The thin little old lady was one of those followers of the Lamb who do
not wait for Christmas to unlock their sympathies. The river of