The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. Just then—I was nervous. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. You won't often see white folks. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. " "What a life!" "No worse than yours. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. " "The very face," exclaimed Gay, advancing to look at it;—"with all the escapes written in it. His literary instincts began to stir.
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