The little fellow’s eyes sparkled as he saw the bread, which most of us would have thrown aside as valueless, and waited with impatience for it to be divided. The shoemaker cut it into four pieces, picking up and eating the crumbs that broke off from the loaf as he cut it. He handed Loney his portion. As the child ate it ravenously, he shook his head sadly, saying: “Yes, this is the last crumb before starvation!” Loney had broken his bread into pieces, and as he left some of them on the rock by his side Morris broke his bread also into pieces, and put one piece to his lips, then took it away resolutely, and, pointing to a tree, said: “Is dot a pirt on dat tree ofer dere?” The child looked in the direction of the tree, while Morris slipped the piece of bread down beside the others on the rock. “I don’t see any bird, Mr. Goldberg. Why don’t you eat your bread? I thought you were hungry, too.” Saying this, the child took the bread from the rock all unsuspecting that it had been placed there by the shoemaker. To aid in the deception, the old man began to chew, saying: “Vot you vant me to do? Dere, now, see how I choke meinselluf!” Saying this, the kind man pretended to cough, and again said: “Look, look! I am sure it is a pirt on de tree. Oh, if de Bennie und de Helen vere only here now!” As the child looked again, earnestly, at the tree, Morris placed the rest of the bread on the rock, unperceived. The boy looked in vain for the bird, and mechanically put his hand behind him for the bread, and never knew that the good man had sacrificed himself for the sake of seeing the child eat the bread. Morris kept up the deception until he saw that Loney had finished his scanty meal, and then tears of weakness, hunger and sorrow mingled and ran, unnoticed, down his cheeks. Loney saw them and said: “Oh, Mr. Goldberg! why are you crying?” “Crying? I am laughing. I’m not crying. Don’t you know de difference between laughing und crying! Ven ve get de golt ve can hire de best detective-policemens in de vorld, und den ve fint her right avay. It is hart dot ve must haf money, efen to fint our children ven dey pe lostet. If I fint a million, dot all shall be spent to fint Dora!” “I’ll help you, Mr. Goldberg. Would you buy me something?” “Yes; vot you vant? A naughtymobble? Or a flying-machine?” “Oh, yes!” “Vell, den, I puy you a naughtymobble, mit a golt horn on it und mit three pounds of diamonds all arount it. Haf you got a toothpick, Loney. I haf got mein supper in mein teeth, und it makes me nervous.” “No, sir, I haven’t got one,” said Loney, ready to cry, to think that he could not give his benefactor what he wanted. He continued: “Nefer mind, Loney. Ve vill vait till after breakfast.” “Do you think there will be any breakfast, Mr. Goldberg?”