, lonely chap! Of course you cried."

"Teacher, yiss, ma'am; it ain't fer boys they shall cry, but I cries
over it. Und soon something touches me by mine side, und I turns und
mine friend he was sittin' by side of me. Und he don't say nothings,
Teacher; no, ma'am; he don't say _nothings_, only he looks on me,
und in his eyes stands tears. So that makes me better in mine heart,
und I don't cries no more. I sets und looks on mine friend, und mine
friend he sets und looks on me mit smilin' looks. So I goes by mine
house, und mine friend he comes by mine house, too, und I lays by mine
bed, und mine friend he lays by mine side. Und all times in that night
sooner I open mine eyes und thinks on how mine mamma is got a sickness,
und mine papa is by Harlem, mine friend he is by mine side, und I don't
cries. I don't cries never no more the whiles mine friend is by me. Und
I couldn't to go on your house to-morrow the whiles I don't know if
mine friend likes Rover."

"Of course he'd like him," cried Miss Bailey. "Rover would play with
him just as he plays with you."

"No, ma'am," Morris maintained; "mine friend is too little for play mit
Rover."

"Is he such a little fellow?"

"Yiss, ma'am; awful little."

"And has he been with you ever since the day before yesterday?"

"Teacher, yiss, ma'am."

"Does he seem to be happy and all right?"

"Teacher, yiss, ma'am."

"But," asked Miss Bailey, suddenly practical, "what does the poor
little fellow eat? Of course ten cents would buy a _lot_ of food
for one boy, but not so very much for two."

"Teacher, no, ma'am," says Morris; "it ain't so very much."

"Well, then," said Miss Bailey, "suppose I give you twenty cents a day
as long as a little strange friend is with you."

"That could to be awful nice," Morris agreed; "und, Missis Bailey," he
went on, "sooner you don't needs all yours lunch mine friend could eat
it, maybe."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she cried; "It's ham to-day."

"That don't make nothins mit mine friend," said Morris, "he likes ham."

"Now, Morris," said Miss Bailey very gravely, as all the meanings of
this announcement spread themselves before her, "this is a very serious
thing. You know how your mother feels about strangers, and you know how
she feels about Christians, and what will she say to you--and what will
she say to me--when she hears that a strange little Christian is living
with you? Of course, dearie, I know it's nice for you to have company,
and I