Many thanks to you, Tom;" and he forced a shilling into Tom's horny palm.

The man took it reluctantly, and a tear started to his eye.

He felt more grateful for that shilling than he had for Frank's liberal half-crown; and he thought of the poor fallen family, and forgot his own dire wrestle with the wolf at his door.
He stayed lingering in the lane till the figure of Randal was out of sight, and then returned slowly.

Young Leslie continued to walk on at a quick pace.

With all his intellectual culture and his restless aspirations, his breast afforded him no thought so generous, no sentiment so poetic, as those with which the unlettered clown crept slouchingly homeward.
As Randal gained a point where several lanes met on a broad piece of waste land, he began to feel tired, and his step slackened.