'Nobody, sir; but mother is sick, and I _have_ to sell 'em! She's had nothing to eat all day, sir. Oh! do buy some--_do_ buy some, sir!' 'I will, my good boy; but tell me, have you no father?' 'No, sir, I never had any--and mother is sick, _very_ sick, sir; and she's nobody to do any thing for her but _me_--nobody but _me_, sir!' and he cried as if his very heart would break. 'Don't cry, my little boy, don't cry; I'll buy your ballads--all of them;' and I gave him two half-dollar pieces--all the silver I had. 'I haven't got so many as that, sir; I haven't got only twenty, and they're only a cent a piece, sir;' and with very evident reluctance, he tendered me back the money. 'Oh! never mind, my boy, keep the money and the ballads too.' 'O sir! thank you. Mother will be so glad, _so_ glad, sir!' and he turned to go, but his feelings overpowering him, he hid his little face in the big blanket-shawl which he wore, and sobbed louder and harder than before. 'Where does your mother live, my boy?' 'Round in Anthony street, sir; some good folks there give her a room, sir.' 'Did you say she was sick?' 'Yes, sir, very sick; the doctor says she can't live only a little while, sir.' 'And what will become of you, when she is dead?' 'I don't know, sir. Mother says God will take care of me, sir.' 'Come, my little fellow, don't cry any more; I'll go with you and see your mother.' 'Oh! thank you, sir; mother will be so glad to have you--so glad to thank you, sir;' and, looking up timidly an my face, he added: 'You'll _love_ mother, sir!' I took his hand in mine, and we went out into the storm. He was not more than six years old, and had a bright, intelligent, but pale and peaked face. He wore thin, patched trowsers, a small, ragged cap, and large, tattered boots, and over his shoulders was a worn woolen shawl. I could not see the remainder of his clothing, but I afterward discovered that a man's waistcoat was his only other garment. As I have said, it was a bleak, stormy night. The rain, which had fallen all the day, froze as it fell, and the sharp, wintry wind swept down Broadway, sending an icy chill to my very bones, and making the little hand I held in mine tremble with cold. We passed several blocks in silence, when the child turned into a side-street. 'My little fellow,' I said, 'this is not Anthony street--that is further on.' 'I know it, sir; but I want to get mother some bread, sir. A good gentleman down here sells to me very cheap, sir.' We crossed a couple of streets and stopped at a corner-grocery. 'Why, my little 'un,' said the large, red-faced man behind the counter, 'I didn't know what had become of ye! Why haven't ye bin here to-day?' 'I hadn't any money, sir,' replied the little boy. 'An' haven't ye had any bread to-day, sonny?' 'Mother hasn't had any, sir; a little bit was left last night, but she made _me_ eat that, sir.'