"That's so, father," answered Charley. "Let Tommy come in by the stove and he'll tell you all about it." CHAPTER XI. TOMMY IN BUTTONS. Tommy was invited in, and given a seat. He related his adventures, but owing to a whisper from Wild Charley, did not say anything about the smuggling. They all listened to him with great attention, and admitted that his coming to Mr. Floyd's was very remarkable. "My young friend," exclaimed Rev. C. Floyd, "your wanderings serve to show that there is a higher power which watches over the most insignificant of us. I will turn no houseless wanderer from my door; nay, I will even offer you employment." "How can I thank you, sir?" said Tommy, his eyes overflowing with tears. "By diligence and civility. We have a lad named Bobsey, who cleans the boots and shoes, sees to the fires, brushes the young gentlemen's clothes, and answers the bell, as well as waits at table." "I'll do that." "Bobsey is about to leave us. You shall take his place, receive your board and lodging, and half a crown a month. I think, my dear, that Bobsey's livery will fit our young friend." "Yes; they're about the same size," answered Mrs. Floyd, to whom this remark was addressed. "Then we will relegate him to the regions below; for though he has traveled with our Charley, their intimacy must cease, and Tommy be taught at the start that we can allow no communication between him and our young gentlemen." At this, the young gentlemen in question, who were inclined to be priggish and high-toned, turned up their noses and appeared to regard Tommy as one very much beneath them. "Boy," exclaimed Mrs. Floyd, "go downstairs, and the cook will give you your supper. For to-night you will sleep with Bobsey." "Thank you, ma'am," replied Tommy. She conducted him to the top of the kitchen stair, and called down to the cook, saying: "Susan, this is the new page boy." "All right, ma'am," answered the cook from the depths below. Tommy went down and entered a large kitchen in which burned a bright fire. The cook, a good-natured looking woman, sat on one side, and on the other, perched upon a stool, was a lad of sixteen, though his face was old enough to make one think he was twice that age. "Bobsey," said the cook, "missis says this is the new page boy." "I knows it," replied Bobsey, with a cheerful air. "Cos vy, I vos a-listenin' at the door all the time they vos a-talkin', and it don't break my 'art. Look at me! Ven I come 'ere I vos fat, now I is that thin my mother thinks of chalkin' my 'ed and lettin' me hout as a billiard cue." "I'm sure, Bobsey, you 'as plenty to heat and to drink," answered the cook, with a reproachful glance.