ill lived. I had some
slight acquaintance with him.

Under this aspect of things, I hardly knew what course to pursue in
order to raise the lad at Maxwell's above his present unhappy
condition. I entertained, for some time, the idea of communicating
with his father and uncle on the subject; but I could not make up my
mind to do this. The indignation with which they had thrown off his
erring mother, and the total oblivion that had been permitted to
fall upon her memory, made me fearful that to approach them on the
subject would accomplish no good for the boy, and might place me in
a very unpleasant position toward them. Thus far I had kept my own
counsel, although the nature of my inquiries about Mrs. Miller had
created some curiosity in the minds of one or two, who asked me a
good many questions that I did not see proper to answer directly.

"The child is innocent, even if the mother were guilty." This I said
to myself very frequently, as a reason why I should make every
effort in my power to create an interest in favour of little Bill,
and get him out of the hands of his master, who, in my view, treated
him With great cruelty. In thinking about the matter, it occurred to
me that in case Mrs. Miller were innocent of the derelictions
charged upon her, she would leave some evidence of the fact, for the
sake of her child at least. So strongly did this idea take hold of
my mind, that I determined to question Bill closely about his mother
as early as I could get an opportunity. This did not occur for
several weeks. I then met the boy in the street, hobbling along with
difficulty. I stopped him and asked him what ailed his feet. He said
they were sore, and all cracked open, and hurt him so that he could
hardly walk.

"Come round to my office and let me see them," said I.

"I am going to take these shoes to the binder's,"--he had a package
of "uppers" in his hand--"and must be back in twenty minutes, or Mr.
Maxwell says he will give me the strap." The boy made this reply,
and then hobbled on as fast as he could.

"Stop, stop, my lad," I called after him. "I want you for a little
while, and will see that Mr. Maxwell does not give you the strap.
You must come to my office and get something done for your feet."

"They are very bad," he said, turning round, and looking down at
them with a pitiable expression on his young face.

"I know they are, and you must have something done for them
immediately."

"Let me go to the