"To think as how the discontented little beast should take and go and better hisself at such a time as this here, when there ain't a boy to be had for love or money—which three shillings a week is all the Board will give—as will come here to take care of him."
Richard knew himself to be the "him" alluded to. The doctor had ordered the boy to sit up with him at night during the latter part of his illness, and it had been something of a relief to him, in the blank monotony of his life, to watch this boy's attempts to keep awake, and his furtive games at marbles under the bed when he thought Richard was not looking, or to listen to his snoring when he slept.
"You see, boys as is as bold as brass many ways—as would run under 'osses' heads, and like it; as thinks it fun to run across the railroad when there's a hexpress hengine a comin', and as will amuse theirselves for the hour together with twopen'orth of gunpowder and a lighted candle—still feels timersome about sittin' up alone of nights with him," said the keeper.
"But he's harmless enough, ain't he?" asked the other.
"Harmless! Lord bless his poor hinnercent 'art! there ain't no more harm in him nor a baby. But it's no use a sayin' that, for there ain't a boy far or near what'll come and help to take care of him."
A minute or two after this, the keeper came into Richard's room with the regulation basin of broth—a panacea, as it was supposed, for all ills, from water on the brain to rheumatism. As he put the basin down, and was about to go, Richard spoke to him,—
"The boy is going, then?"
"Yes, sir." The keeper treated him with great respect, for he had been handsomely fed by Mrs. Marwood on every visit throughout the eight years of her son's imprisonment. "Yes, he's a-goin', sir. The place ain't lively enough for him, if you please. I'd lively him, if I was the Board! Ain't he had the run of the passages and half an hour every night to enjoy hisself in the yard! He's a goin' into a doctor's service. He says it'll be jolly, carring out medicine for other people to take, and gloating over the thought of 'em a-taking it."
"And you can't get another boy to come here?"
"Well, you see, sir, the boys about here don't seem to take kindly to the place. So I've got orders from the Board to put an advertisement in one of the Slopperton papers; and I'm a-goin' to do it this afternoon. So you'll have a change in your attendance, maybe, sir, before the week's out."
Nothing could better prove the utter dreariness and desolation of Richard's life than that such a thing as the probable
