comforts were not wanting."

"And, papa, I have an old suit of clothes; that poor boy is dying with
cold;-- just see, his jacket will hardly hold together. Might I give him
my old suit, papa?"

I read assent in the gentleman's smile; then, turning to the poor
motherless children, he told them that he could not leave them one night
longer in that miserable place; that he would take them at once to the
dwelling of an honest widow whom he knew, who would watch over the sick,
and take care of the young, for she herself had once been a mother.

Poor Bob, weakened and exhausted by poor living, looked bewildered at
the words, as though he scarcely understood them, but was ready, without
question or hesitation, to go wherever his benefactor should guide him.
One only doubt seemed to linger on his mind. "Shall I," said he, in a
hesitating tone, "shall I still be able to go to my school?-- 'cause I
shouldn't like to be a-leaving it now!"

"Assuredly you shall attend it, my boy, as soon as your health will
permit. I have no means of permanently assisting you; my stay in England
is but short; I can only give you help for a time. But at the school you
will learn to help yourself, and soon, I hope, be independent of any
human aid. I should do you an injury, and not a kindness, were I to
teach you to rest on others for those means of living which a brave and
honest boy desires to earn for himself. Now let us go on to the
comfortable lodging which I mentioned."

Billy uttered an exclamation of childish delight, as though the word had
called up before his mind's eye a warm hearth, a blazing fire, and
smoking viands on a table beside him.

They all now quitted the place, Neddy appearing if possible more happy
than the delighted little child. But Billy was the last to leave the
shed, in which he had passed so many days of suffering and want. He
lingered for a moment at the door, and looked back with a pensive
expression.

"You never wish to see that place again, I am sure?" cried Neddy.

"No, not the place; but-- but I should ha' just liked a last peep of the
pretty spotted rat who used to lead the old blind un by the stick!"

CHAPTER XII.

A NEW ROAD TO FAME.

It may have been but my fancy,-- it probably was so,-- but it seemed to
me that Oddity felt a good deal the departure of his little human
friend. I thought that he missed the lame child who had taken such
pleasure in watching him, and who had found beauties eve