After Jaggers another boy did an even pluckier thing. His name was Halsey, and he was sent to California, which is on the other side of America, much further than New York, and he had to go right across the continent and find the way all by himself, and he was given no time to get ready as Jaggers was, but started almost immediately. That boy afterwards fought for England in South Africa in the Imperial Yeomanry, and is now in a responsible position in the Messenger Service. Another boy was sent to the Sultan of Turkey to take a dog as a present. I think that must have been the most difficult to do of the three things, for the dog might have died on the way, and when the boy got to Turkey he would have the disadvantage of being in a country where a foreign language was spoken. These are exceptional cases, of course, but the boys are still sometimes sent to the Continent with messages. But enough about the Messenger Boys. There is a sight to be seen in London nearly every evening, and particularly on Saturday evenings, that always seems to me to be most touching, and that is the rows of little children waiting outside the shops for food that is sold cheaply. In great shops which sell food that soon perishes--for instance, fish, or fruit, or bread-stuffs--there is often a certain quantity left over at night that will not be quite fresh in the morning, and so it is sold cheaply, and it is this that the children of the poor come to buy. Some shops almost give it away. On Saturday night, outside a pastry-cook's, there was a row of patient boys and girls, each with a basket or bag, and some had been standing there for a long time, because it is a case of 'first come, first served,' and no pushing is allowed. As another little child arrived it took up its stand at the end of the row, and waited until the time came for closing the shop. Then each child paid so much--say sixpence--and got a large quantity of bread, and so much cake, and if there was not enough to go round the last ones had to go away without any.