126

THE NEWS BOY.

WAY up in one of the garrets of a tall

A tenement in Edinburgh, lived Mrs

Watson with her only son Tom, a boy ten years of age. Her husband had been dead for a good number of years, and she obtained a living by doing any kind of work, such as sewing or washing, which she could manage to get from the neighbours and others.

Tom went to school through the day, but later on might have been observed with numbers of other lads rushing down the North Bridge with a small bundle of papers beneath his arm, crying lustily, 'Evening News, sir! only a ha'penny!'

Tom did not wear boots in the summer months, and frequently in the winter had to go barefooted, because his mother could not afford them; but still he was a merryhearted fellow and was happy all the day long.

Time had been dealing a little harshly with both mother and son lately. What with the monthly rent being nearly due, and their earnings smaller than usual (which only sufficed to provide them with barely necessary food), things were not looking very bright. It wanted but two nights till the dreaded visit of the factor, and the widow had only half a slice of bread in the house, with a very small packet of tea and a piece of cheese with two lumps of coal, and no money to buy more. To make matters worse, the weather was bitterly cold and snow lay on the streets, while the windows were often frescoed with beautiful pictures of trees and mountains and various lovely landscapes, painted in the night time by King Frost.

Mrs Watson sat in a kind of dreamy state wondering what she would do if she could not pay the rent. She knew she would be turned out of her house, which, although consisting only of one small room, was still a protection for which she was grateful. She was losing heart and forgot that God heard all her thoughts as plainly as if they had been spoken aloud in the form of words. Why were others rich and

she so poor? She was willing to work, but none could be found; and what was left for her and Tom but to starve?

While such doubts were filling Mrs Watson's mind, Tom was doing his best to sell his papers, but did not meet with great success, as few people liked taking their hands out of their gloves to search in their pockets for a half-penny, the night was so cold. Tom had picked up a pair of old boots somewhere, and although two of his toes peeped out, he thought them very handsome and comfortable, even without stocking inside.

The other Sabbath he had listened to the children in the school singing

"There is a happy land, Far, far away,'

and while waiting at the door he had longed to go inside and enquire if it was too far off for such a little boy as he to reach?

He did not attend church now, because his clothes were too ragged, and his mother did not go for the same reason.

It was getting late now, and Tom had serious intentions of going home, even with half his papers unsold. Passing a house which stood a little way off the main street, he saw a little spaniel shivering with the cold. Bending down he patted the dog on the head at the same time asking, 'Poor wee doggie, is your feet awfu' cold?'

The dog gave no reply but a gentle whine, and tried to lick Tom's hands as much as to say, 'You are very good for asking, but I cannot speak.' A small brass collar was round its neck, and Tom, after great efforts, made out the address, and found that the dog had strayed from home. Lifting it tenderly up he, after half an hour's walking, reached the place and rung the bell. The door of the house was opened by a lady, and the dog with a joyous bark leaped from Tom's arms and began jumping and dancing round about her.

O! Fido, where have you been, you naughty, naughty dog?' said the lady, at the same time lifting it to pat it. Tom was turning to go away when he was called back and some money put in his hands.

His mother's amazement and delight was as great as his own, and after paying the rent they had enough money left over to relieve present anxieties. Tom was induced by some comrades to go to the Sabbath School, and what with the teacher's kindness who called at his abode, and helped his mother to procure work, he went back every week and became, although he was poor, one of the best and attentive scholars there. Some cast off clothes were given him with a pair of boots, and he has induced his mother to go regularly with him to church, and they do not doubt God's goodness now, and are learning daily to trust more and more in Him. The last ticket Tom got to learn off was

IN a poor house in Plymouth, John Kitto,

the well known Biblical scholar, was born on December 4th 1804; so that it is exactly 76 years ago on the 4th of next month. His father who had started well in life became badly behaved, so that the hardships of intemperance were added to those of poverty in Kitto's early home. When four years of age, he was sent to stay with his grandmother, who had always looked on him with special love; and Kitto in later years looked back to the time he spent under her care with feelings of the

Another of the friends of Kitto's childhood was a shoemaker named Roberts, who stayed next door. As he worked with his awl and last, if in good humour, he would tell John the wondrous stories of Cinderella, Blue Beard, and such like. When John learned that these stories were printed and could be bought for a copper or two, his few pence were saved up and spent on story-books instead of sweets. In a year and a half he had quite a small library of such tales.

Before he was twelve years of age, Kitto made his first attempt at authorship. His cousin came to see him one day, and told him that he was going to purchase a story book with a penny. Kitto was very anxious to get a penny at the time, and so offered to write his cousin a story for the penny. The offer was accepted, the story was written, and a picture painted at the beginning; the cousin took the story, John got the penny, and both were thoroughly pleased with their bargain.

Another amusing incident of Kitto's childhood was an attempt to act a play. The play bills in the streets had often attracted his notice, so although he had never seen a play he resolved to arrange for one. He formed a plot, secured a number of companions, and instructed them in their parts. The play bill was drawn out and posted at the door-admission price, 'ladies eight pins, gentlemen ten.' An audience of fifteen responded to the call; and when the entertainment was over, the pins were given to John's aunt for three half-pence, which in turn were spent in gingerbread and apples; and the whole assembly, actors and audience, indulged in a feast.

When ten years of age, along with his grandmother, who had become unable to support herself, Kitto went to stay with his father. In company with his father he

began to work as a mason. His evenings, after the others had gone to bed, were spent in reading and writing by the light of sticks gathered during the day. Three years after removing to his father's, he met with the terrible accident which deprived him of his sense of hearing. He was carrying a load of slates to the roof of a house, and had just reached the top of the ladder, when in stepping on to the roof his foot slipped and he fell a height of thirty five feet to the pavement below. For a fortnight he remained unconscious, but at last he was able to recognise those around him. Their extreme quietness

129

windows. One week-the fair at Plymouth -he got eightpence; but twopence was as much as he usually made in a week.

In 1818, his grandmother was forced to leave Plymouth and was unable to take her grandson with her. Kitto was thus left solely dependent on his parents. As he had no prospect of making his own livelihood, he was in 1819 admitted to the workhouse. There he was placed under the charge of a Mr Anderson to learn shoemaking. In 1820 he lost by death his grandmother, who had been such a true friend to him. He felt the loss most keenly. I shall not attempt to describe my feelings,' he wrote in his diary at the time; they were such, that the moment when I stood on the brink of the grave, eagerly looking on the coffin till the earth concealed it, I shall never forget till the hand that writes this shall be as hers, and the heart that inspires it shall cease to beat.'

He

His life in the workhouse was on the whole pleasant, though there were many hardships. had many kind friends who helped him by giving him books to read. The other boys used to persecute GM him, till at last he had to complain

of their conduct. One of them said all he did was in play, but Kitto answered-and I hope my readers will remember the answer-'You should hurt no one in sport. Whenever your sport gives pain, be sure it is cowardly sport.

On leaving the workhouse in 1821 he was placed under a shoemaker of the name Bowden. His master proved a cruel one; for we find such entries in his diary as the following: November 29th. First blow! threw a shoe in my face; I made a wrong stitch.' 'December 6th. Struck again.' 'December 7th. Again! I could not bear it, a box on the ear, a slap on the face.' 'January 16th. I held the thread too short: instead of telling me to hold it longer, he struck me on the hand with the hammer (the iron part).' His master proved so