J. COLE. AT

than a sovereign in silver, and told me the
gentlemen had been so very kind to him,
“and a’most every one had given him some-
thin’, tho’ he never arst, or waited about, as
some fellers did, as if they wouldn’t lose
sight of a gent till he paid ’em. But,” said
Joe, “they would giv’ it me; and one gent,
he follered me right up the passage, he did,
and sez,‘’Ere, you small boy,’ he sez, and
he give me a whole ’arf-crown. Whatever for,
I don’t know.”

But I knew that must have been Dr. Lo-
ring, a celebrated physician, and my husband’s
dearest friend. We had told him about Joe’s
midnight self-teaching, and he had been much
interested in the story.

You little thought, Joe, the hand that
patted your curly head so kindly that night
would one day hold your small wrist, and
count its feeble life-pulse beating slowly and
yet more slowly, while we, who loved you,
should watch the clever, handsome face, try-
ing in vain to read there the blessed word
“ Hope.”