At the end, as he helped his adversary up, I heard him say to the
fellow in a kindly whisper:-
"You're too good a sort, you know, to whollop a woman. Why, you
very near give me a licking. You must have forgot yourself,
matey."
The fellow interested me. I waited and walked on with him. He
told me about his home in London, at Mile End--about his old father
and mother, his little brothers and sisters--and what he was saving
up to do for them. Kindliness oozed from every pore in his skin.
Many that we met knew him, and all, when they saw his round, red
face, smiled unconsciously. At the corner of the High Street a
pale-faced little drudge of a girl passed us, saying as she slipped
by "Good-evening, Mr. Burridge."
He made a dart and caught her by the shoulder.
"And how is father?" he asked.
"Oh, if you please, Mr. Burridge, he is out again. All the mills
is closed," answered the child.
"And mother?"
"She don't get no better, sir."
"And who's keeping you all?"
"Oh, if you please, sir, Jimmy's earning something now," replied
the mite.
He took a couple of sovereigns from his waistcoat pocket, and
closed the child's hand upon them.
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