"I used to fancy I was working for him years and years ago; but, dear me! it was poor sort o'work; and now I can't do very much.

Only he knows how old I am, and he doesn't care so that I love him, which I do, Tony." "I should think so!" said the boy, falling again into busy thought, from which he aroused himself by getting up from his box, and rubbing his fingers through his wet and tangled hair.
"He takes to children and little 'uns ?" he said, in a questioning tone.
"Ay, dearly!" answered old Oliver.
"I reckon he'd scarcely take me for a man yet," said Tony, at the same time drawing himself up to his full height; "though I don't know as I should care to work for him.

I'd rather have a crossing, and be my own master.

But if I get hard up, do you think he'd take to me, if you spoke a word for me ?" "Are you sure you don't know anything about him ?" asked Oliver.
"Not I; how should I ?" answered Tony.

"Why, you don't s'pose as I know all the great folks in London, though I've seen sights and sights of 'em riding about in their carriages.