The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1901-01-20

go out at mis- usual hour-without penny
in his pocket, and throughout the whole of
Christmas Eve was 10 do without food
and to have no shelter other than that
which an actual outcast could find for
himself.
The clock of St Martins Church struck
nine as he walked across Trafa gar
Square: walked out into the street for the
first time in his life without having had
a breakfast.
II was cold. very cold, and he must keep
the circulation up somehow. He started
at a brisk walk and, cutting across into
St. James Park. STROBE rapidly along.
The exercise warmed his blood a little,
but he could not help beginning TO yearn
for breakfast Never before had visions
of steamng coffee nicely-broWned toast
crisp bacon, and new-laid eggs risen so
persistently upon his mental horizon.
He had not altered his dress in any way;
he wore the suit he was accustomed to
and soft felt hat, but no oveTcoat, for
the chief had suggested that it would be
better that he should feel cold as well as
hungry, just the same as hundreds Of
others who would be trampng the
wealthiest city of the world which was
now on the eve of its greatest festival
But neither did he, nor, Tor the matter
Of that, his chief. forecast the additional
pangs that were to sadden his heart be-
fore the midnight hour struck.
Presently he sat down for few mo-
ments on a bench in the park and idly
beat at the pebbles in the gravel with his
walking stick, and then locked up, TO be
conscious of the figure of miserable little
waif standing in front of him holding out,
from a sleeve Of rags, a wretched apology
for a hand-a poor, thin, transparent
skeleton-like hand.
Give us a penny. please the haggard
little mite implored in a faint voice com
ing through lips almost blue with cold and
hunger. "Only a penny, guv'nor. / amt
'ad no grub for two ole days"
CARROTS heart turned to water in his
breast. 1t was as though something had
drained the life-blood from it with single
a penny" the words seemed to din into
his ears like the clang Of a bell. "A
penny A penny! A penny and he Rad
not even that in his possession; ne thrust
his hands into his empty pockets, and
with wistful eyes the shivering child walt
ed and hoped, but Carroll shook his head
because he dared not speak For yet an
other moment the waif waited and hoped
as he had waited and hoped before, hut
then turned away, as he had turned away
before, sitting down a little sob which
rose in the half-starved throat. and with
a set face Carroll watched the tattered
figure as 1T passed onward out of his
sight and wondered what manner OF man
the childish heart must think him who
would refuse q penny penny for food,
and most Of all, at Christmas TING.
"Oh, Cod" he said, slowly, Il didn't
know II would be like this
He sprang from the bench and walked
onward, onward, onward, ever increasing
his pace, and moving faster still anxious
to avoid being stopped and spoken to; for
he told his heart he could not bear such a
thing again, and ever before him there
floated the pinchcd face Of the ragged
little waif, and the reproachful eyes. Whlie
in his ears there rang the sorrowiul plea
for lust a penny. Twice the clocks had
chin1ed the hour. and still he had walked
on needless Of where he went, and now
dull sickcning feeling was growing mp
within him, the first pangs OF munger
hunger that, as he heard noon strike, ne
realized he had yet another twelve hours
to endure. and heaven only knew how &C
centuated Il would become 10 him before
his task was ended.
lie stroVe to fight down the yearning for
food. and the thought came that cigar
cite would be a solace, but that, too WITS
denied him. rs the chief had said an out
cast starving wretch. without money to
buy even scrap of food, would nave no
tobacco, and so the cigarette-case. as
well as the purse, had been left at home.
His pockets We're empty-no watch of
chain that he could pawn-nut that he
would have done so if he could, for. nav
Ing undertaken the task. Charles Carroll
would be conscientious enough 10 perform
Il Thoroughly.
He turned his face toward the city. and
presently walked on down the Strand ana
into Fleet Street
The thing was beginning to become pain
full He would not have felt the horror Of
II as keenly as he did now but for that
wretched little waif in the park whose
face haunted him with a sickly remem-
brance ne vowed that tomorrow he
would se>fch the streets unlll ne found
that child again.
Tos xiii his thoughts he determined
that he would begin TO write his special
for the Courier" but then. again. his
or pencil Everything seemed to empha-