I told you I weren't much bigger nor her there when mother died, and I've picked up my living up and down the streets anyhow, and other lads have helped me on, till I can help 'em on now.

It don't cost much to keep a boy on the streets.

There's nothink to pay for coals, or rent, or beds, or furniture, or anythink; only your victuals, and a rag now and then.

All I want's a broom and a crossing, and then shouldn't I get along just?
But I don't know how to get 'em." "Perhaps the Lord Jesus would give them to you, if you'd ask him," said Oliver, earnestly.
"Who's he ?" inquired Tony, with an eager face.
"Him--Christ.

It's his other name," answered the old man.
"Ah! I see," he said, nodding.