Or a gun, eh?
Can one buy a gun for half-a-crown?"
Alfred smiled at him.
"It is very kind of you, sir," he said slowly. "I do not care for
chocolate or guns, but if my father would allow me to accept your
present, I should like very much to buy a larger drawing block."
Mr. Bomford looked at the child and looked at his father.
"Buy anything you like," he murmured weakly,--"anything you like at
all."
The child glanced towards his father. Burton nodded.
"Certainly you may keep the half-crown, dear," he assented. "It is one
of the privileges of your age to accept presents. Now run along into
the other room, and I will come in and fetch you presently."
The child held out his hand once more to Mr. Bomford.
"It is exceedingly kind of you to give me this, sir," he said. "I can
assure you that the drawing block will be a great pleasure to me."
He withdrew with a little nod and a smile. Mr. Bomford watched him
pass into the inner room, with his mouth open.
"God bless my soul, Burton!" he exclaimed. "What an extraordinary
child!"
Burton laughed, a little hoarsely.
"A few weeks ago," he said, "that boy was running about the streets with
greased hair, a butcher's curl, a soiled velveteen suit, a filthy lace
collar, dirty hands, torn stockings, playing disreputable games with all
the urchins of the neighborhood.
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