I ventured to draw his ear down and whispered something--but I got no answer; meanwhile, John Halifax for the third time was going away.
"Stop, lad--I forget thy name--here is thy groat, and a shilling added, for being kind to my son." "Thank you, but I don't want payment for kindness." He kept the groat, and put back the shilling into my father's hand.
"Eh!" said the old man, much astonished, "thee'rt an odd lad; but I can't stay talking with thee.

Come in to dinner, Phineas.

I say," turning back to John Halifax with a sudden thought, "art thee hungry ?" "Very hungry." Nature gave way at last, and great tears came into the poor lad's eyes.

"Nearly starving." "Bless me! then get in, and have thy dinner.

But first--" and my inexorable father held him by the shoulder; "thee art a decent lad, come of decent parents ?" "Yes," almost indignantly.
"Thee works for thy living ?" "I do, whenever I can get it." "Thee hast never been in gaol ?" "No!" thundered out the lad, with a furious look.