CHAPTER I.
BENNIE’S HOME.
It was very cold down in the old lumber yard which skirted the canal, and Bennie’s little hands were numb and blue as he gathered the bits of boards and shingles and piled them in his basket, until it seemed as if so small a boy as he could not lift the heavy load. But Bennie was used to burdens and hardships; indeed, he would hardly have known himself without them, and when the basket was full he took it in both his hands and walked slowly along the towpath towards the miserable hovel he called his home. As he came near the bridge a young lady was going up the stone steps which lead to the street above, and with her was a little boy just Bennie’s age, but so different in looks and dress and general appearance that one could not fail to notice the contrast at on
