Nearly all the boys he knew were shoeblacks, or newspaper sellers and messenger boys, or they combined the three trades; and nearly all came from Megaloupolis in the charge of an older boy of eighteen or twenty years old, "the big one," as they called him. He paid them a yearly wage and, except what was necessary for food, all their earnings went to him. Aleko was paid one hundred and fifty drachmæ a year; next year he was to have two hundred. Later on, he would work for himself, and doubtless when he was old enough he would in his turn employ smaller boys. He had no father, and the money was required to help his mother and the two small sisters in Megaloupolis. How could they live else? After he had eaten, he sat down and pulled out his morning's earnings from the breast of his tunic. The copper coins and nickels amounted to one drachma and thirty-five lepta; of these, he put aside thirty lepta for his supper, and screwing up the rest in a piece of old newspaper pushed it underneath a painted wooden chest to give to "the big one" when accounts were made in the evening. Then he threw himself on his mattress, doubled his arm under his head, and slept till the loud barking of a dog on the pavement outside awoke him with a start. He rushed up the cellar steps which led to the pavement of the narrow street, banging the door behind him, and nearly fell headlong over a fox-terrier busily occupied with the rubbish tin of the next house. The little dog yelped sharply as Aleko stumbled over him, and abandoning the rubbish tin, trotted quickly off towards the square. "Solon!" called Aleko. "Here Solon! Why do you run away? It is only I." Solon stopped short, listened for a moment with uplifted paw, and then with a series of little joyful barks ran back towards the boy. Aleko stooped, and catching him up by the middle of his well-fed, white little body tucked him under his arm. "You little rascal! What do you mean by rooting in the rubbish? Have you not enough to eat in your house? I should be glad to have your luck." Two little ears were cocked on one side of Aleko's arm and a short tail wagged frantically on the other. "I wonder how it happens that you are out alone? Has Anneza lost you?" Just then, coming out on the Kolonaki Square, Aleko descried a young woman carrying a basket, who was looking all around her and peering under the bushes of the enclosure seemingly in great distress. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. "Anneza! Eh! Here is your dog! It is I who have him!" The young woman wheeled around and came rapidly towards him. She was pretty, with black hair and a big white apron crossed over a pink cotton frock. "Do you not feed him enough?" Aleko asked her as he put down the dog. "I found him in my street with his nose in the rubbish tin."