The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-04-11
aurrER-cH1Lp LIFE.

| ameS OreeAWooo, In "Outcast London."
 "Them two isn't anything to do with me. No, thanky; I've got quite enough of lem to look after without" said the ten-year-old mass of rags was inter- viewing. And as he glanced toward his sister (who was now comforting the baby in the midst of a fit of coughing) his young face grew grave and anxious as that of middle aged father of family.
 "What do you mean when you say that you have to leek after them2" asked. "You are expected to see that they don't get into mischief, suppose {"
 Something more'n that" he replied, with sober wag of his red head. "I've got to fpd grub for 'em. There's another one of 'enl my young brother Bill. He's sitting by the fire in the landlady's kitchen, Cos he can't walk"
 "What is the matter with Bill, then !? Is he cripple2"
 The old look gave place to grin again as he replied, "You wouldn't say so if you was to see him chucking hand springs and summersalts aside of the buses. It was the wheel of a cab what went over his toes and famed him."
 |" But where are your father and moth er?"
 Fathers down at the docks, or some where, suppose, looking after a iob. Mother, she works over on Tooley street, at the tater sack making. They goes out fust thing in the morning and come home last thing at night. That's all we see of 'em"
 But wouldn't it be better to stay in- doors this bad weather?"
 Cant: they lock the door of our room, fear we might fall out O winder, or set the place on fire, or something"
 "And you, being the eldest" l re- marked, "are, l suppose, trusted with the money to bue food for your brother and sister all day long?"
 He grinned again, and then laughed outright, the joke tickied him so.
 ketch 'em leaving any money along O me-" he presently made answer. "The way of it is this, mister. We has some bread and coffee before mother goes out in the morning, and all we gets 'twixt then and eight or nine o'clock at night is what pick up When mother comes home, we have some of what she brings home for supper, and that's the lot"
 "Bat your father, don't he bring home any money2"
 A resentful scowl distorted the boys mobile face as he replied:
 "A rare lot he brings home. More like he'd take away what get If he'd the chance. He'd do it more, only mother rounds on him about it and sticks up for us. A stunning mother she is too," continued the grateful young street Arab admiringly. "No matter how he puncnes her or 'pastes' her, she won't give in about that. What he'-that's me, you know ever picks uP,' ses she, let him divide it among lem, and if you take it away from 'em, you'll have to settle with me for it when come home.'"
 But what is it you do pick up, and where?"
 Oh, anything anywhere {; I ain't per replied the grubby-faced young Briton, on the instant becoming light. hearted again. "But can't get about and do anything while it's raining. Some times works the omnibuses, like l was doing when the cab wheel went over young Bills toes, and sometimes play on the tin whistle, or l go hunting for bones and rags, or p'raps takes my bag and goes down to the river and picks up enough coals to sell for tuppence or thru pence. It's no use bein' pertickler, don't you know, when there's two or three of 'em looking to'rds you for a bit of wit tles."
 And there was look in his eyes as he spoke that any man would have been grati6ed to see in the eyes of little son of his. own. It was strange story. The poor hard working drudge, the mother, able with her toiling from morning till night to buy only half loaf in place of a whole one for her unlucky progeny; the lazy father, who rather than work would rob his child of its vagabond gleanings; the ragged, sturdy, ready wiped ragamuffin, aged ten, who stood before me, and who, according to his own account, acted the part of father and mother as we'll to his younger brothers and sisters day after day.