Page:Stubbs's Calendar or The Fatal Boots.djvu/112

 but a vife vid monny—ha, ha—but you vere de pigeon, and she vas de grow. She has plocked you, too, pretty vell—eh? ha! ha!"

"O, Mr. Stiffelkiknd," said I, "don't laugh at my misery; she has not left me a single shilling under heaven. And I shall starve, I do believe I shall starve." And I began to cry fit to break my heart.

"Starf! stoff and nonsense—you vil never die of starfing—you vil die of hanging, I tink, ho! ho! and it is moch easier vay too." I didn't say a word, but cried on: till every body in the street turned round and stared.

"Come, come," said Stiffelkind, "do not gry, Gaptain Stobbs—it is not goot for a Gaptain to gry, ha! ha! Dere—come vid me, and you shall have a dinner, and a bregfast too—vich shall gost you nothing, until you can bay vid your earnings."

And so this curious old man, who had persecuted me all through my prosperity, grew compassionate towards me in my ill-luck; and took me home with him as he promised. "I saw your name among de