A London Waif

Dominion, Volume 28, Issue 122, 16 February 1935, Page 23

A London Waif

HOW HE FOUND HIS WAY HOME

The waif uncurled his small body and looked about him. The air was chill and the waif had been lying on a cold stone stairway in a troubled sleep. His pockets were empty, he was hungry, as he had spent his last penny on a bread roll the nigh “ before. The nights were becoming colder and the operas and concerts- were not so well attended. . This meant that there would be fewer taxis to run for, or cars to mind and people did not give these wild-eyed hungry boys very’ much for their services. The waif was nicknamed “Tiny” by some of the boys with whom he had worked in Covent Garden. Tiny struggled up from his resting place and stretched his cramped limbs. He shivered and was just going to walk away when a lantern was flashed in his face. It was a policeman. “Here you, move out of that,” ordered lhe policeman. “Tiny eyed the lantern fearlessly: “Couldn’t you give me a penny?” he wailed. “I am so hungry and cold." The policeman took pity on the ragged urchin and put a threepenny bit in the outstretched hand. ' / ’ ■ ■ / “Now go, and don’t let me catch you loitering on people’s doorsteps again. Tiny clasped the money and hurried off. As he hurried along he became aware of merriment in one of the houses. He stopped and looked into a big room full of children in fancy dress, A butler saw Tiny looking, through the glass doors and went and opened them. “Hurry up,” he said, “you’ll be late if you don’t.” Tiny hesitated and then followed the butler into the room. There was a large number of children, all in fancy,.dress and playing games, and Tiny was left to, join them. -x < ? Several children saw him enter the room. “Here comes some ohe else dressed as a beggar boy,” some cried, and several of them came up to him and asked his name. ' . , Then they, all fell, silent as a beautifully-dressed, sad lady entered the room, followed by a tall man. . “Now, chidren,” said the lady, “if you will, all line up, I will judge the costumes." , ■ ' . " - „ ■’ . • Tiny won the prize for the best boy’s costume —a beautiful pocket-knife with a silver chain attached. All the other boys crowded round him and admired the present ' A big boy pushed his way in and pulled the knife out of Tiny’s fingers. “Just what I have wanted,” he said. z “Give it to me. Give it to me,” cried Tiny, and he made a grab at the knife. The boy jerked if away and in doing so gashed Tiny’s wrist. He cried out in pain and the man came hurrying up, followed by the lady. • “What have you done?” cried'the lady to the boy holding the knife.“I will carry him upstairs," said the man, and, after tying the bleeding wrist With his handkerchief,he carried Tiny upstairs and placed him on a couch. ‘ ? “Now, old man, we will soon fix that cut,” he said, and he went to a cupboard and brought bandages and ointment. He took off Tiny’s ragged coat and bandaged his wrist His wife, who was watching, suddenly gave a cry, “Look at that mark on his arm!” and she pointed to a diamond-shaped brown mark on Tiny’s arm. The man turned pale and looked hard at the mark. , “Where do you live?” asked the man in a husky voice. “I have been living with an old woman; she 'died six weeks ago,” Tiny said. ' . .. ■ . . ■ 'i' ./ “You are our long lost son,” said the lady. ■ “You wore stolen by some one when you were a baby, but I knew you by that peculiar birth-mark on your arm. We are having this party to-night in memory of your birthday, as you are twelve to-day.” • ' . ' . Tiny was standing beside the man with wonder in his big, grey eyes. It seemed like a wonderful dream. “That is your father you are standing by, Rex; he is a great surgeon,” said Rex’s mother, and she smiled'at Rex. t Then suddenly a new light came into his eyes and he/crept over to her side and looked into her face. .. . v ' “ ■ “Mother!” be whispered, and he put his head in her lap and burst info tears.” —Original by, “Te Rauparaha,” > . , Aged 16 years. Bunnythorpe.

s . ' ’ ‘ ' ~ kcUers letters I'Ptles and.'Pdes Says iNkinxg’, vjitk cLelg'hl'ed- Smiles Hurry people , Send- Some morfij

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- Dear Scribes, — A memory-jog by special messenger (ME) abont the competition. Subjects—-‘The Blue Ghost’ 1 (there is one.very creepy entry for that), an animal story, or “The Sun Saw Drawings, too, on the same subjects, but stories do not have to be illustrated, though they can be. Closing day, two weeks on Wednesday.

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