"'You do me good, anyhow, uncle,' I answered. 'If I'm not a better man for having you for an uncle, why I shall be a great deal the worse, that's all.' "'Why, there it is!' rejoined my uncle; 'I don't know whether I do good or harm. But for you, Charlie, you're a good boy, and don't want any good done to you. It would break my heart, Charlie, if I thought you weren't a good boy.' "He always called me a boy after I was a grown man. But then I believe he always felt like a boy himself, and quite forgot that we were uncle and nephew. "I was silent, and he resumed,-- "'I wish I could be of real, unmistakeable use to anyone! But I fear I am not good enough to have that honour done me.' "Next morning,--that was Christmas-day,--he went out for a walk alone, apparently oppressed with the thought with which the serious part of our conversation on the preceding evening had closed. Of course nothing less than a threepenny piece would do for a crossing-sweeper on Christmas-day; but one tiny little girl touched his heart so that the usual coin was doubled. Still this did not relieve the heart of the giver sufficiently; for the child looked up in his face in a way, whatever the way was, that made his heart ache. So he gave her a shilling. But he felt no better after that.--I am following his own account of feelings and circumstances. "'This won't do,' said Uncle Peter to himself. 'What is your name?' said Uncle Peter to the little girl. "'Little Christmas,' she answered. "'Little Christmas!' exclaimed Uncle Peter. 'I see why that wouldn't do now. What do you mean?' "'Little Christmas, sir; please, sir.' "'Who calls you that?' "'Everybody, sir.' "'Why do they call you that?' "'It's my name, sir.' "'What's your father's name?' "'I ain't got none, sir' "'But you know what his name was?' "'No, sir.' "'How did you get your name then? It must be the same as your father's, you know.' "'Then I suppose my father was Christmas-day, sir, for I knows of none else. They always calls me Little Christmas.' "'H'm! A little sister of mine, I see,' said Uncle Peter to himself. "'Well, who's your mother?' "'My aunt, sir. She knows I'm out, sir.' "There was not the least impudence in the child's tone or manner in saying this. She looked up at him with her gipsy eye in the most confident manner. She had not struck him in the least as beautiful; but the longer he looked at her, the more he was pleased with her. "'Is your aunt kind to you?' "'She gives me my wittles.' "'Suppose you did not get any money all day, what would she say to you?' "'Oh, she won't give me a hidin' to-day, sir, supposin' I gets no more. You've giv' me enough already, sir; thank you, sir. I'll change it into ha'pence.' "'She does beat you sometimes, then?' "'Oh, my!' "Here she rubbed her arms and elbows as if she ached all over at the thought, and these were the only parts she could reach to rub for the whole. "'I _will_,' said Uncle Peter to himself.