Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. "At all events, I've not done with you. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. “Don’t lie to everyone, Lucy! You know it’s the truth!” Michelle defended herself. "I warn you, if you do not send for a doctor immediately, you will have cause to regret it," Ruth declared vigorously. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. I need you every day. It’s—Mrs.
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