which the sailors were kneeling while at their work. Several times during the afternoon he took a look at the sailors, and when at length he saw them lift up the boat and push the tow underneath, his mind was made up.

"Stunnin'!" he ejaculated; I b'lieve we is in luck's way to-day. Couldna have bin better if it were a-made for us."

Punctually at four o'clock the children were at their trysting-place. They were both in high spirits, for their profits were larger than they had been for many a day past. Benny especially was in high glee, for he had the prospect of a comfortable lodging-place for the night, without any fear of his father's fury, and was consequently eager to communicate his discovery to Nelly.

"Golly, Nell," was his greeting, using his favourite expression, "it's a heap too cold to stick in one place. Let's off into Park Lane, and git a feed; we can 'ford it to-night."

And off they started, hand in hand. The place to which they directed their steps was not the most select, the character of the customers being of no consequence, so long as the money was forthcoming. This fact was well known to Benny, so he entered, leading his sister by the hand, without any trepidation. It was a long narrow room in which they found themselves, with several small tables at regular intervals down the sides. A bright fire was burning at the farther end of the room, near which Benny took his seat, requesting that two penny loaves might be brought, and a pennorth of cheese."

66

They remained as long as they dared, then again sought the wintry streets. But the keen frosty air made them long for shelter, and once more they sought the glowing grate of honest Joe Wrag. The old man seemed pleased to see them, and made room for them in his hut, though he said little. Oh, how the fire glowed and crackled in the keen frosty air, revealing to little Nelly Bates scenes of wondrous beauty! And as Joe watched her face glowing in the firelight he muttered to himself, "Purty little hangel; I hopes she'll grow up good, or-or die—ay, or die!"

It was after eight o'clock when they left Joe's warm hut, for Nelly had pleaded so hard to stay that he could not deny her request. She seemed to be twining herself around the old man's heart in a wonderful manner, and but for his fury of a wife he would have taken her to his own home when it became known to him that the children were homeless.

It did not take them long to reach the boat; and having satisfied themselves that they were not noticed, they crept underneath in a "jiffey," as Benny would have expressed it.

"Brimstone and treacle!" said Benny, as he put his hand on the large heap of tow; "ain't this sumpshus? We'll be as snug as Jonah 'ere."

"Ay, Benny, this is fine.”

"Let's shut out all the daylight fust, Nell, and then the cold won't get in."

Thanks to the abundance of tow this was not difficult, and

soon the children were cuddled in each other's arms, feeling warmer than they had felt for many a night past. It was a long time, however, before they could get to sleep. To Nelly especially was it strange. And thoughts too deep for them to express kept crowding into their minds, keeping them wide

awake.

At length, however, a feeling of drowsiness began to creep over them, and they were just dropping off to sleep when they were startled by a footstep near them, and a hoarse voice muttering, as if in anguish, "O Death, what dost thou mean?"

For a moment, the children clutched each other in terror; then they heard the footsteps dying away in the distance, and their confidence returned again.

"Who could it be?" said Nelly.

"A bobby, I 'specks," said Benny; "but he ain't catched us, so we's safe 'nough now."

For awhile after they lay listening, but no other footsteps disturbed them, and soon balmy sleep stole over them, sealing their eyelids, and giving rest to their weary little heads and hearts.

D

CHAPTER IV.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

Friendship, peculiar boon of heaven,
The noble mind's delight and pride;
To men and angels only given,

To all the lower world denied.

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

THE experiences of Benny and his sister during the next day were but a repetition of what we recorded in the last chapter; but during the second night they found the shelter of the boat but a poor substitute for a home, and in the morning they were stiff and cramped through lying so long in one position; and when they paid Joe Wrag their third morning visit, the old man noticed that all was not right with them. Nelly especially was gloomy and depressed.

Joe Wrag was generally a silent man, aud not given to asking many questions; but when he saw great tears in Nelly's round eyes as she sat gazing into the fire, he felt that he must know what was troubling the child, and help her if he could. He had also a dim suspicion that they had not been to their home of late, and he wondered where they could have spent their nights. Like Benny, he dreaded the idea of little Nelly congregating with young thieves and vagabonds, and felt he would rather a thousand times the

child should die than that she should grow up to be a wicked woman. So after reflecting for some time, and wondering how he should best get at the truth, he burst out suddenly with the question,

"When were ye last home, eh?"

For a moment there was silence, and Benny looked at his sister as much as to say, "That's a poser; we're in for it

now."

"Come now," said Joe, seeing their hesitation, "let's 'ave nowt but truth; out wi' it, an' it will be best in the end."

"You tell 'im, Nell," said Benny, "'cause he'll b❜lieve you."

So Nelly, in her sweet pleading voice, told him all the story of Benny's wrong, and of her father's cruelty, and how even she herself had not escaped his anger.

"And did he beat you, my purty?" said Joe, clenching his fist tightly at the same time.

"Ay, Joe; but I dunna think he know'd what he were a-doin'."

For a few moments the old man's face worked as if in pain. Then he muttered to himself, "Some'at must be done, an' no mistake; but what? Eh, what?" Then he looked at the children again.

"Don't yer think you'd better go home again to-night?" he said; and he watched eagerly for the effect of his question. Nelly was the first to speak.

"Oh, no," she said; "we should get it worse nor ever.