should care to work for him. I'd rather have a crossing, and be my own
master. But if I get hard up, do you think he'd take to me, if you spoke
a word for me?"

"Are you sure you don't know anything about him?" asked Oliver.

"Not I; how should I?" answered Tony. "Why, you don't s'pose as I know
all the great folks in London, though I've seen sights and sights of 'em
riding about in their carriages. I told you I weren't much bigger nor her
there when mother died, and I've picked up my living up and down the
streets anyhow, and other lads have helped me on, till I can help 'em on
now. It don't cost much to keep a boy on the streets. There's nothink to
pay for coals, or rent, or beds, or furniture, or anythink; only your
victuals, and a rag now and then. All I want's a broom and a crossing,
and then shouldn't I get along just? But I don't know how to get 'em."

"Perhaps the Lord Jesus would give them to you, if you'd ask him," said
Oliver, earnestly.

"Who's he?" inquired Tony, with an eager face.

"Him--Christ. It's his other name," answered the old man.

"Ah! I see," he said, nodding. "Well, if I can't get 'em myself,
I'll think about it. He'll want me to work for him, you know. Where
does he live?"

"I'll tell you all about him, if you'll come to see me," replied Oliver.

"Well," said the boy, "I'll just look in after Friday, and see if the