He had grown strong, and could toddle about and take care of himself wonderfully well for a child of his age.
And now began a new life for the baby--a life in which he must look out for himself and hold his own in a hand-to-hand struggle.

He had no rights that the herd of children among whom he was thrown felt bound to respect; and if he were not able to maintain his rights, he must go down helplessly, and he did go down daily, often hourly.

But he had will and vital force, and these brought him always to his feet again, and with strength increased rather than lost.

On the days that Mrs.Burke went out he lived for most of the time in the little street, playing with the children that swarmed its pavements, often dragged from before wheels or horses' hoofs by a friendly hand, or lifted from some gutter in which he had fallen, dripping with mud.
When Mrs.Burke came home on the evening of her first day out, the baby was a sight to see.

His clothes were stiff with dirt, his shoes and stockings wet, and his face more like that of a chimney-sweep than anything else.