One day in the bitter month of January, after lying under an archway all night, he got up, feeling very stiff, sore, and hungry--oh! he was awfully hungry. The night before he had spent the only penny he possessed in buying a few of those celebrated "Cough-no-more" lozenges, and now, here he was without his breakfast, and no means of buying any. It was by no means a pleasant day for a thinly-clad boy with a racking cough to step out breakfastless; there had been snow the night before, and now the snow was half-melted under foot, and overhead the air was very keen and frosty. Robin started off at a brisk run for Covent Garden; he had no money to lay in any little stock there, but he might be fortunate enough to "nab" a few oranges or nuts. When he arrived, the place was full of eager buyers and sellers, and Robin recognised several little brother thieves. Never did it seem to him that the owners of the fruit and vegetables were more on the alert, and never had he been more starvingly anxious to steal. While he was standing about, watching his chance, a large burly-faced man called out to him: "Look here, my lad; you seems like an honest chap; will you help me to carry these 'ere big baskets of wegetables to my stall? I'll give yer sixpence for the job." "Yes, zir; yes, zir," said Robin joyfully. Pleasanter words had never fallen on his ears; he had never liked any man so much in his life. Not for worlds, not to save his existence, would he have stolen so much as a farthing's worth from that man's stall. Why? no one had ever told him it was wrong to steal. Why? he never had a better chance, for the burly-faced man hardly watched him at all. Ah! but he said he looked like an honest fellow, and no sweeter words had ever fallen on the little thief's ears. He worked happily for an hour, then walked away with his well-earned sixpence, and a glow he had never experienced before in his breast. _He_, Robin, looked like an honest fellow; he had learned ere this what the word "honest" meant; and though he had laughed at the word, and pretended to deride it, yet in his heart of hearts he had admired honest fellows, he had envied honest fellows. Those boys and girls who could look every man fearlessly in the face, who earned their bread, instead of stealing their bread, in his heart of hearts he had more than once longed to resemble them. This was an instinct, more than an active feeling, with him; the instinctive longing of every one of God's creation after the right. Out of twopence he bought a hunch of bread and basin of coffee. Never had he enjoyed a more delicious breakfast. With his remaining fourpence he laid in a stock of morning papers. He had not dealt in this style of merchandise before, but the newspaper vendors seemed to him to do a very thriving business, and he had a kind of dim desire to spend this day, at least, as an honest fellow. He went down to the Bank, and began to advertise his property.