A CHILD OF THE JAGO
Mr. Weech suddenly broke into a loud laugh, but kept his keen look on the boy's face nevertheless. "Ah, it's a good joke, Dicky, ain't it?" he said, and laughed again. "But you can't 'ave me, ye know! Mr. Grinder's an old friend o' mine, an' I know 'is little larks. Wot did 'e tell you to do if I wouldn't 'ave that door-mat?"
"Tell me?" asked Dicky, plainly more mystified than ever. "W'y 'e never told me nothink. 'E gimme the sack this afternoon, an' chucked me out."
"Then wotcher got yer apron on now for?"
"Oh," said Dicky, looking down at it, "I jest put it on agin—o' purpose." And he glanced at the mat.
Mr. Weech understood, and grinned—a genuine grin this time. "That's right, Dicky," he said, "never let yer wits go a-ramblin'. A sharp boy like you's a lot too good for a shop boy, slavin' away from
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