The Tucumcari news and Tucumcari times. [volume] (Tucumcari, N.M.) 1907-1921, 1910-09-10

strange long words which none Of the
children could understand.
Supper over, Mr.. and Mrs. Dickens
for that was their nance and the two
younger children sat before the tiny
fire, and Mr.. Dickens talked Of how he
might raise enough money to pay his
debts, leave the prison, and start fresh
in some new business. Charles had
heard the same plans from his father y
lips a thousand times before, and so he
took from the cupboard an old book
which he had bought at a little second.
hand shop = few days before, a small
tattered copy of "Don Quixote,' and
read il by the light of a tallow candle
in the corner.
The lines soon blurred before the
boys tired eyes, and his head nodded,
and he was fast asleep. lie was awok.
encd by his fathers deep voice. "'Time
ia be leaving, Charles, my son. You
have not forgotten that my pecuniary
situation prevents my choosing the hour
at which ! shall close the door Of my
house. Fortunately it is a predicament
which | trust will soon he obviated to
our mutual satisfaction"
The small fellow stood up, shook hands
solemnly with his father, kissed his
mother, and took his way out of the
great prison. Open doors on various
landings rave him pictures of many pc.
%culiar households; sometimes he would
stop ms though TO consider some unusual.
ly puzHling face or figure.
Into the night again he went, and
wound through a dismal labyrinth of
dark and narrow streets OF old Lon.
don. Sometimes q rough voice or an
evil face would brighten him, and he
would take TO his heels and run as fast,
rs he could. When he passed the house
where he had asked for Mr.. Fagin he
chuckled to himself; he would not have
had his friend know for worlds that
his family s home was the Marshalsea
Prison.
Even that room in the prison, how.
ever, was more cheerful than the small
black attic chamber where the boy fell
asleep for the second time that night.
lie slept on a bed made up on the floor,
but his slumber was no less deep on that
account.
The noise Of the in q timber
yard under his window woke Charles
when it seemed much too dark to be
morning. II was, however, and he was
quickly dressed, making his brea kfast
from a penny cottage loaf of bread, q
section Of cream cheese and a small bot,
tie OF milk, which were all he could at.
ford to buy from the man who rented
him the room. Then he tool the roll OF
paper marked with the name OF the day
from the drawer of his bureau and
counted out the pennies into his pocket
They were not many he had TO live
ON seven shillings q week, and he tuck.
ed them away very carefully in his peck
ct lest he lost them and have TO do
without his lunch.
lie was not yet due at the blacking
factory, but he hurried away from his
room and joined the crowd of early
morning people already on their way
TO work. lie went down the embank,
ment along the Thames until he came to
n place where n bench was set in "a cor,
ner of Il well. This was his f~avorite
Longing place; London Bridge was just
beyond, the river lay in front OF him,
and he was far away from people to be
secure from interruption. As he sat there
watching the bridge and the Thames a
small girl came to join him. She was
no bigger than he, perhaps a year OF
two older, but her face was already
shrewd enough for that of a grown up
woman. She was the maid .of.all.work
u, d house in the neighborhood and
she had fallen in the habit of stopping
To talk few moments with
the boy on her way 10 work in the
morning. She liked To listen to his
stories. This was his hour for invent.
ing them. lie could spin wonderful
tales about London Bridge, the Tower,
and the wharves along the river. Some.
times he made up stories about the peo.
pie who passed in front Of them, and
they were such astonishing stories that
the girl remembered them all day as
she worked In the house. lie seemed 20
believe them himsef; his eyes would
grow far away and dreamy, and his