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. “I do not think that he is quite dead. ” Lucy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It couldn’t be. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. "I've done all I can to the portrait here. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. We’ll go to the shops.
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