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Then when Dick fell to work, the stout man looked from Dick to
the sign and from the sign to Dick.
"Where did you get that?" he asked.
"From a friend o' mine," said Dick,--"a little feller. He
guv' me the whole outfit. He was the best little feller ye ever
saw. He's in England now. Gone to be one o' them lords."
"Lord--Lord--" asked Mr. Hobbs, with ponderous slowness, "Lord
Fauntleroy--Goin' to be Earl of Dorincourt?"
Dick almost dropped his brush.
"Why, boss!" he exclaimed, "d' ye know him yerself?"
"I've known him," answered Mr. Hobbs, wiping his warm forehead,
"ever since he was born. We was lifetime acquaintances--that's
what WE was."
It really made him feel quite agitated to speak of it. He pulled
the splendid gold watch out of his pocket and opened it, and
showed the inside of the case to Dick.
"`When this you see, remember me,'" he read. "That was his
parting keepsake to me `I don't want you to forget me'--those was
his words--I'd ha' remembered him," he went on, shaking his
head, "if he hadn't given me a thing an' I hadn't seen hide nor
hair on him again. He was a companion as ANY man would
remember."
"He was the nicest little feller I ever see," said Dick. "An'
as to sand--I never seen so much sand to a little feller. I
thought a heap o' him, I did,--an' we was friends, too--we was
sort o' chums from the fust, that little young un an' me. I
grabbed his ball from under a stage fur him, an' he never forgot
it; an' he'd come down here, he would, with his mother or his
nuss and he'd holler: `Hello, Dick!' at me, as friendly as if he
was six feet high, when he warn't knee high to a grasshopper, and
was dressed in gal's clo'es. He was a gay little chap, and when
you was down on your luck, it did you good to talk to him."
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