building into the street.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _The tantalising pigtail._']

Having thus related the manner in which our hero was launched upon the
sea of adversity, without means of subsistence, and with no better
companion in his misery than the wrath aroused by the sense of his
harsh and unjust treatment, we must return to the point at which we
left him stretched beside the stove in Spangler's garret. At the same
time we desire to correct an impression which the reader may have
formed from the opening portion of our story that, at the moment of
his chancing upon this friend in need, Joseph was longing to return to
the comfortable quarters which he had quitted in such fiery haste.
Such an impression would be far from representing the true state of
Haydn's feelings at the time. He had, indeed, hoped to encounter
Michael--to speak a word with him, to beg of him, in fact, a crust of
bread; but his heart failed him when he saw his brother amongst his
companions, and pride stepped in as well to prevent him from exposing
his distress to so many curious eyes. Thus far he had yielded to the
promptings of hunger, but his resolution not to re-enter the school
had stood firm, in spite of the cravings of nature, in spite of his
friendless position, in spite of the long dreary vista of want which
the past eight-and-forty hours had opened to his eyes. He had acted
upon the impulse of the moment, but the bitterness of the cause which
prompted that action remained--nay, more, it was already acting like a
tonic upon a nature disciplined to look difficulties bravely in the
face. Those few hours of sound sleep put new life into his frame, and
when he awoke it was with the resolve to refrain from any further
attempt to see his brother, lest his desperate condition should
unsettle the younger one and render him unhappy. It would be a hard,
uphill fight, but he would fight it alone--not even his parents should
hear of him again unless he succeeded.

'Now, Joseph, what do you propose to do?' was the inquiry of his host,
when the morning fast had been broken by a porringer of
bread-and-milk. 'Have you made up your mind to go back to the school?
or will you send word to your people that you intend to return home?'

'I will never go back to the school,' answered Joseph firmly, 'and as
for going home, that is even further from my intentions than the
other.' And then he told his friend of the poverty