with a frank

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with a frank

Post  chwengjwendy on Mon May 02, 2011 7:43 pm

with a frank

open countenance, though somewhat dirty, and dressed in a suit of rags. he was reading busily in his tes¬tament, and would stop occasionally and ask such serioas questions of his teacher, that i could not but smile. his " practical observations" on cer¬tain points of scripture, if clothed in elegant lan¬guage, would do MBT Shoes honour to men of education. there was a free-heartedness in him that gleamed out through MBT all his rags and dirt, and i sat down by him to ask questions. " where do you live i asked, " and how v' " i live anywhere i can," he replied, " and almost liow i can !" u but," said i, " wliat is your trade, or business ? what do you generally do for a living ?" "lama water-cress boy," he replied, " and get up every morning at two o'clock, and go on foot three or four miles, and sometimes six or eight, into the edge of the city, to buy the water-cresses. i get a basket of them there for a shilling, and by crying them the whole day, generally clear another, which pay8 my board and lodging." " but can you live upon a shilling a day v i asked. " yes, pretty well, but many times i don't make a shilling, and then i buy a crust of bread, and go and sleep under one of the arches of london bridge, or in some crate or box down on the wharves." just then the superintendent came along, and as 1 took his arm, he said, " the lad you have been talking with comes here every night to learn to read ; MBT Trainers and although he can¬not get to sleep before ten o'clock, and is obliged to be up at two in the morning, yel he is always punc¬tual. not long since his mother was imprisoned for arrearages in her rent—the sum needed to re» lease her was but ten shillings. well, this boy al¬most starved himself, and slept MBT Shoes Sale out of doors, to save the money out of his scanty earnings to release her from prison." i went back again and talked with the boy, and in. my eyes he was a truer hero than wellington o~ napoleon! " the drunkards son. a little boy stood in the door of a dilapidated house in the suburbs of a western village. his threadbare dress was of finer texture than seemed appropriate to such a lowly dwelling—and there was an easy gracefulness in the child's manner MBT Sale that be¬spoke an early training more refined than the chil¬dren of poverty usually receive. eight summers only had the boy seen, but there was an unnatural thoughtfulness on his brow ;


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