n to a
rented house in the Isle of Wight, where he eventually recovers. At
which point it is discovered who his real parents are, and he is "U"
after all, so everyone feels good about it.

________________________________________________________________________

QUICKSILVER; OR, THE BOY WITH NO SKID TO HIS WHEEL, BY GEORGE MANVILLE
FENN.

CHAPTER ONE.

A VERY STRANGE PAIR.

He was very grubby, and all about his dark grey eyes there were the
marks made by his dirty fingers where he had rubbed away the tickling
tears. The brownish red dust of the Devon lanes had darkened his
delicate white skin, and matted his shiny yellow curls.

As to his hands, with their fat little fingers, with every joint showing
a pretty dimple, they looked white and clean, but that was due to the
fact that he was sitting in a bed of moss by the roadside, where the
water came trickling down from the red rocks above, and dabbling and
splashing the tiny pool, till the pearly drops hung among his dusty
curls, and dotted, as if with jewels, the ragged old blue jersey shirt
which seemed to form his only garment.

This did not fit him, in spite of its elasticity, for it was what a
dealer would have called "man's size," and the wearer was about two and
a half, or at the most three; but the sleeves had been cut so that they
only reached his elbows, and the hem torn off the bottom and turned into
a belt or sash, which was tied tightly round the little fellow's waist,
to keep the jersey from slipping off.

Consequently the plump neck was bare, as were his dirty little legs,
with their dimpled, chubby knees.

While he splashed and dabbled the water, the sun flashed upon the drops,
some of which jewelled the spreading ferns which drooped over the
natural fount, and even reached as high as the delicate leafage of
stunted overhanging birch, some of whose twigs kept waving in the soft
summer breeze, and sweeping against the boy's curly hair.

When the little fellow splashed the water, and felt it fly into his
face, he laughed--burst after burst of silvery, merry laughter; and in
the height of his enjoyment he threw back his head, his ruddy lips
parted, and two rows of pearly teeth flashed in the bright sunshine.

As dirty a little grub as ever made mud-pies in a gutter; but the water,
the ferns, moss, and flowers around were to his little soul the most
delightful of toys, and he seemed supremely happy.

After a time he grew tired of splashing