atly, "for she's a good gal is Edie--if
she ain't drownded."

"Why, boy, how can you know whether the girl is good or bad?"

"How can I know?" he echoed, with a glance of almost superhuman wisdom.
"In coorse I know by the powers of obserwation. That old gal, Mrs
Willis, is a good old thing--as good as gold. Vell, a good mother is
always cocksure to 'ave a good darter--specially ven she's a only
darter--so the mother o' Edie bein' good, Edie herself _must_ be good,
don't you see? Anythink as belonged to Mrs Willis can't help bein'
good. I'm glad you took me to see her, doctor, for I've made up my mind
to take that old 'ooman up, as the bobbies say w'en they're wexed with
avin' nuffin' to do 'xcept strut about the streets like turkey-cocks.
I'll take 'er up and do for 'er, I will."

On questioning him further I found that this ragged and homeless little
waif had indeed been touched by Mrs Willis's sad story, and drawn
towards her by her soft, gentle nature--so different from what he had
hitherto met with in his wanderings,--and that he was resolved to offer
her his gratuitous services as a message-boy and general servant,
without requiring either food or lodging in return.

"But Mrs Willis may object to such a dirty ragged fellow coming about
her," said I.

"Ain't there no pumps in London, stoopid?" said Slidder, with a look of
pity, "no soap?"

"True," I replied, with a laugh, "but you'd require needles and thread
and cloth, in addition, to make yourself respectable."

"Nothink of the sort; I can beg or borrer or steal coats and pants, you
know."

"Ah, Slidder!" said I, in a kind but serious tone, "doubtless you can,
but begging or borrowing are not likely to succeed, and stealing is
wrong."

"D'you think so?" returned the boy, with a look of innocent surprise.
"Don't you think, now, that in a good cause a cove might:--

"`Take wot isn't his'n,
An' risk his bein' sent to pris'n?'"

I replied emphatically that I did not think so, that _wrong_ could never
be made _right_ by any means, and that the commencement of a course of
even disinterested kindness on such principles would be sure to end ill.

"Vell, then, I'll reconsider my decision, as the maginstrates ought to
say, but never do."

"That's right. And now we must part, Slidder," I said, stopping. "Here
is the second sixpence I promised you, also my card and address. Will
you come and see me at my own house the day after to-morrow, at eight