s, and now of derision at some luckless driver. Out in the
country, when the heavily laden market carts loomed slowly out of the
fog as they passed, they had the appearance of being miles up in the
air, and as if they must inevitably topple over. Joshua knew all the
carters, not by sight, for he could not see them, but by the time and
place he met them on his nightly journey. Tim could reckon pretty well
that after he had heard his gruff salutation of "a dark night, mate,"
repeated a certain number of times, that they must be nearing home, for
they always met about the same number of Joshua's friends; as he had no
watch this was a comfort to him on the dark nights. Taught by
experience, he learned to contrive for himself a sort of Robinson Crusoe
but with the various hampers and boxes, and in this he lay curled round
in tolerable comfort, covered with an old horse-cloth; nevertheless, it
was often very cold, and then the only consolation was in thinking that
Joshua must be cold also. It is always easier to bear things if there
is some one to bear them with you--unless you are a hero.

One December evening the carrier's cart was just starting homewards from
the door of the Magpie and Stump. Joshua, reins in hand, and closely
buttoned up to the chin, stood ready to mount to his perch, saying a few
last words to the landlord, who was a crony of his; Tim was already in
his place. From where he sat he could see something which interested
and excited him a good deal, and this was an old woman close by who was
selling roasted chestnuts. They did look good! So beautifully done,
with nice cracks in their brown skins showing just a little bit of the
soft yellow nut inside. Tim looked and longed, and fingered a penny in
his pocket. How jolly it would be to have a penn'orth of hot chestnuts
to eat on his way home! They would keep his hands warm too. Joshua
still talked, there was yet time, he would give himself a treat. He
scrambled down from the cart and went up to the old woman, who sat
crouched on a stool warming her hands over her little charcoal brazier.
She looked a cross old thing, he thought, but she was not, for when he
had paid for his chestnuts she picked out an extra fine one and gave it
him "for luck," with a kind grin on her wrinkled face. He was turning
away with a warm pocketful, when he saw, sitting on the edge of the
pavement near, a very poor thin dog, who trembled with cold or fear, and
blinked his