Year: 1875

The occasion Of the crowd was q COM
mon street accident, and the object OF
their curiosity and pity common street
boy, alwas ragged, dirty and disagreed
bic, but now more ragged, dirty, and
repulsive than usual, for he had been
down among the stamping hoofs of the
frightened horses, and there We're many
ugly cuts in his thin flesh, the blood OF
which had dyed his rags with o very
ugly color.


The lady in the carriage, who had told
her husband to lift the little victim up
to the seat in front of her, did not seem
to think the unfortunate boy very re-
pulsive, however. OF course, dirt and
blood acre offensive to her, but she was
Christian and woman, and wounds
and bruises appealed to her pity too
powerfully to allow thought of disgust
TO enter her mind then


The boy was laid carefully upon the
front-seat of the elegant barouche, the
ever-prompt policeman (ever-prompt in
London, that is to say dispersed the
curious crowd, and gave the necessary
directions to the coachman, and the We
hlcle drove away to the nearest hospital,
which it reached just about the time
when the last man in the crowd, that
had witnessed the accident, had forgot
ten all about it.


Fortunately for Ben, the Bootblack,
and still more fortunately for Mr.. Sam
Dalzen and his wife, as you will see by
and by, the latter did not forget. The
gentleman just named was wealthy
Bostonian lin England, with his family,
on very singular business, which we
shall hear more about hereafter), and
| neither he or Mrs. Dalzeel were con-
tent to allow public charity to take the
entire care of the poor boy who had been
injured by their horses, even though it
was the result of his own. carelessness.
Accordingly, they paid all the charges
of the hospital required to place him on
the footing of a private patient, and Mrs
Dalzell, with her little daughter, visited
MIN almost every day.


Ben, ON his part, never forgot those
visits of Christian charity, and his won
der at the beauty of boih mother and
daughter was only equalled by his COM
plete astonishment that they should take
''all that trouble for sich an or'nery cove
as him."


10 hor Ir I,1r
he often murmured to himself, in the
silence of the night, during his slow re-
covery. ''I'm blessed if the little un
don't look as sorry for me as if I were
| her brother. I wish I was;' but then,
as if there was contamination to her in
the very thought, he added quickly ::
Anyways, [ wish could do suthin' for
her" and lapsed into sudden silence.


His first action, however, when he
was, at length, able to walk, did not
look much like gratitude. He ran away
from the hospital, and disappeared so
completely that even the police, who
were requested to search, were unable
to find him. 1t was the intention of Mr.
Dalzell, who was quite won by the boys
patience under his sufferings, to put him
at school and give him a start in life; but
his running away seemed SO very like q
deliberate refusal of the better life held
out to him-ne having been told all
about it-that they could not but think
him ungrateful, and even unworthy.


Little Anna Dalzell cried heartily,
when she understood she never was
to see the pale, sick boy any more; but
even her tears did not bring him back,
and before very long, poor Ben had var
ished from her memory as if he had
never had o place there. When next
his likeness was to be impressed upon
her youthful mind, it was to be done in
such way as to remain there, indelible,
forever.


Anything more unlike ingratiiude
than the motive which had prompted
poor Ben's flight, it would be hard to
imagine. It was, truly and simple, no.
| thing less than foolish but unconquer-





new friends if he allowed them to at
tempt to carry out their kind intentions.
| He remembered, with terror, his for
mer life, and it's fearful contrast with
theirs. He saw, IS in picture, its sin
and misery, its rags and hopelessness;
and as he was utterly ignorant of the
nature of goodness, he could not con-
ceive it possible that he could ever be
made worthy of their bounty. It would
be useless to try to explain his reason
ing, or, rather, his want of reason, in
the matter The conviction in his child
ish mind was as powerful as if founded
on a perfect process of logic, and the re-
suit was that his very excess of graft
tude drove him to flight, rather than
run the risk, that his benefactors should
ever have cause to know him unworthy.


1t seems to me that this act of self
denial-for he knew well that all the
real hardsdips of his life would be ended
by his acceptance-was very worthy of
a knight, even of high degree Self
sacrifice is the attribute of saints, end
many martyr has endured death with
less of pang than Ben suffered, when
he fed thus from all the good things of
| the world.


But he did not forget, and if the po
lice of that day had had detective
shrewd enough to have ssput himself in
Ben's place, the boy would soon have