A CHILD OF THE JAGO
it so good as that shown at the shop in High Street; it was of a browner, dumpier, harder nature, and the currants were gritty and few. But cake it was, and to consider it critically were unworthy. Dicky bolted it with less comfort than he might, for Mr. Weech watched him keenly across the table. And, indeed, from some queer cause, he felt an odd impulse to cry. It was the first time that he had ever been given anything, kindly and ungrudgingly. He swallowed the last crumb, washed it down with the dregs of his cup, and looked sheepishly across at Mr. Weech.
"Goes down awright, do n't it?" that benefactor remarked. "Ah, I like to see you enjoyin' of yerself. I 'm very fond o' you young 'uns, 'specially clever 'uns like you."
Dicky had never been called clever before, so far as he could recollect, and he wondered at it now. Mr. Weech, leaning back, contemplated him smilingly for some
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