“None, sir. But we had nowhere else to go, and nobody seemed to want the place. We didn’t hurt anything. We swept away a multitude of dead moths, and killed a lot of live ones, and destroyed a whole granary of grubs; and the dog killed a great rat.” “What is your name?” “Clare--Porson,” answered Clare, with a little intervening hesitation. “You are not quite sure?” “Yes; that is my name; but I have another older one that I don’t know.” “A bad answer! The name you go by is not your own! Hum! Is that boy your brother?” “No, sir.” “Your cousin?” “No, sir; he’s not any relation of mine. He’s a tramp.” “And what are you?” “Something like one now, sir, but I wasn’t always.” “What were you?” “Not much, sir. I didn’t _do_ anything till just lately.” He could not bear at the moment to talk of his beloved dead. He felt as if the old gentleman would be rude to them. “Is the infant there your sister?” “She’s my sister the big way: God made her. She’s not my sister any other way.” “How does she come to be with you then?” “I took her out of the water-butt. Some one threw her in, and I heard the splash, and went and got her out.” “Why did you not take her to the police?” “I never thought of that. It was all I could do to keep her alive. I couldn’t have done it if we hadn’t got into the house.” “How long ago is that?” “Nearly a month, sir.” “And you’ve kept her there ever since?” “Yes, sir--as well as I could. I had only sixpence a day.” “And what’s that boy’s name?” “Tommy, sir.--I don’t know any other.” “Nice respectable company you keep for one who has evidently been well brought up!” “Baby’s quite respectable, sir!” “Hum!” “And for Tommy, if I didn’t keep him, he would steal. I’m teaching him not to steal.” “What woman have you got with you?” “Baby’s the only woman we’ve got, sir.” “But who attends to her?” “I do, sir. She only wants washing and rolling round in the blanket; she’s got no clothes to speak of. When I’m away, Tommy and Abdiel take care of her.” “Abdiel! Who on earth is that? Where is he?” said the magistrate, looking round for some fourth member of the incomprehensible family. “He’s not on earth, sir; he’s in heaven--the good angel, you know, sir, that left Satan and came back again to God.” “You must take him to the county-asylum, James!” said the magistrate, turning to the tall policeman. “Oh, he’s all right, sir!” said James. “Please, sir,” interrupted Clare eagerly, “I didn’t mean the dog was in heaven yet. I meant the angel I named him after!” “They _had_ a little dog with them, sir!” “Yes--Abdiel. He wanted to be a prisoner too, but they wouldn’t let him in. He’s a good dog--better than Tommy.” “So! like all the rest of you, you can keep a dog!” “He followed me home because he hadn’t anybody to love,” said Clare. “He don’t have much to eat, but he’s content. He would eat three times as much if I could give it him; but he never complains.” “Have you work of any sort?”