OUR ISHMAEL 841
present at least, distributed among relatives of his mother ; all as poor as himself, but all ready, as people of his race ever are, to help those of their own blood. But none of the overworked mothers could undertake "de baby." A place was found for this waif in a babies' home. And the big brother he was then fourteen went bravely to work, shouldering a responsibility that might have staggered a grown man. "I got to buy dere close anyways," he explained; "but I had to help before; father's no good."
A year later this boy was seized with typhoid fever, and languished for months in the county hospital. I visited him there and satisfied myself that he had good care. In his delirium he always hailed me with a mysterious, beckoning gesture ; and, as I bent over him, invariably confided, in a hoarse whisper, while his hot hands clutched mine : " Dey took away me pants, Miss Law, and dere's fifteen hunder dollars in de pocket. Won't you please und take care of it for me? Dey want to steal me money off me. It's dat nurse dat done it." Night and day he raved of money, of bargains, and "swipes," over which he exulted slyly; or he recounted the things he had bought for "de kids;" or berated them with vivid expletives, for wearing out their shoes so fast. "But I'll git yer some more, sis!" he said once, adding as he turned wearily on his pillow: "You can't wear such thick ones like me, 'cause you're a girl." Some one injudiciously informed him, while he was convalescing, that he had accused the nurse of stealing from him, and he was deeply mortified and very penitent. "I feel so 'shamed," he said, as he sat one afternoon in his chair by the bedside, pushing back his long hair with his skeleton hand; "I feel so 'shamed to think I said dat to de nurse, und she was so good to me, too ; but I told her I was sorry."
I have dwelt upon this case because it seems to me to be typical in many ways. I cannot picture this little fellow as a story-book saint. I have shown him exactly as I saw him ; as, alas! I see him yet in my daily walks. He is now a tall, lanky youth of seventeen. The pretty boyish face is gone, and I discern more clearly every day the growing image of the low-
