"Well, papa, I should like for you to give one of those little street boys a chance."
"Who do you mean?"
"That poor boy I gave the shilling to on the landing-stage the other day, don't you remember—when you called me a silly girl?"
"And were you not silly, Eva?"
"No, papa, I don't think I was; for I am sure the boy is not bad, he has such honest eyes. And he said he had no father, nor mother, nor brother, nor sister, and he seemed in such trouble."
"Well, my child?"
"You know now what I mean, papa. I confess I had quite forgotten the poor boy till this afternoon I saw him standing in front of the house. I had been singing 'Love at Home,' and he had been listening, I think; and I fancy it had made him sad, for his eyes were full of tears, but when he saw he was noticed he hurried away as quickly as possible."
"And suppose I should decide to employ this boy, Eva, where should I find him?"
" Oh, he said he was nearly always on the landing-stage. He sold matches there, except when he was running errands."
" Well, I will think about it, Eva."
"Oh, promise, papa, there's a good man."
"I don't believe in making rash promises, Eva," said Mr. Lawrence kindly; "and, besides, I have very little faith in those street boys. They are taught to be dishonest
