Noddy's duty on the journey to Brighton was to assist in keeping the cattle on their feet. When the poor animals become weary, they are disposed to lie down; but they are so closely packed that this is not possible for more than one or two in a car; and if one lies down he is liable to be trampled to death by the others. The persons in charge of the cattle, therefore, are obliged to watch them, and keep them on their feet.

The train occasionally stopped during the night, and was several times delayed, so that it did not reach its destination till the middle of the following forenoon. The drover provided him a hearty breakfast in the morning, and Noddy was in no haste. The future was still nothing but a blank to him, and he was in no hurry to commence the battle of life.

When he arrived at Brighton he assisted in driving[118] the cattle to the pens; and then, with half a dollar, which the drover gave him for his extra services, he started for Boston, whose spires he could even then see in the distance. He reached the city, and from the Mill Dam—the long bridge he had just crossed—he walked to the Common. Being quite worn out by two nights of hard work, and the long walk he had just taken, he seated himself on one of the stone benches near the Frog Pond. It was a warm and pleasant day, and he watched the sports of the happy children who were at play, until his eyelids grew heavy, and he hardly knew the State House from the Big Tree.

For a boy of his age he had undergone a severe experience. The exciting circumstances which surrounded him had kept him wide awake until his physical nature could endure no more. Leaving the seat he had occupied, he sought out the quietest place he could find, and stretching himself on the grass, went to sleep.

It was nearly sunset when he awoke; but he felt like a new being, ready now to work and win at any business which might offer. He wandered about the streets of the city for two hours, and then ate a hearty supper at a restaurant. It was too late to do[119] anything that night, and he asked a policeman to tell him where he could sleep. The officer, finding he was a friendless stranger, gave him a bed at the station-house.

In the morning he made his way to the wharves, and during the long day he went from vessel to vessel in search of a berth as cabin-boy. He asked for this situation, because he had frequently heard the term; but he was willing to accept any position he could obtain. No one wanted a cabin-boy, or so small a sailor as he was. Night came on again, with a hopeless prospect for the future; and poor Noddy began to question the wisdom of the course he had taken. A tinker's shop, with plenty to eat, and a place to sleep, was certainly much better than wandering about the streets.

He could not help thinking of Woodville, and the pleasant room he had occupied in the servants' quarters; of the bountiful table at which he had sat; and, above all, of the kindness and care which Miss Bertha had always bestowed upon him. With all his heart he wished he was there; but when he thought of the court-house and the prison, he was more reconciled to his fate, and was determined to persevere in his efforts to obtain work.[120]

It was the close of a long summer day. He had been wandering about the wharves at the north part of the city; and as the darkness came on, he walked up Hanover Street in search of a policeman, who would give him permission to sleep another night in the station-house. As he did not readily find one, he turned into another street. It made but little difference to him where he went, for he had no destination, and he was as likely to find a policeman in one place as another.

He had gone but a short distance before he saw a crowd of ragged boys pursuing and hooting at a drunken man who was leading a little girl ten or eleven years of age,—or rather, she was trying to lead him. Under ordinary circumstances, we are afraid that Noddy would have joined the ragamuffins and enjoyed the senseless sport as well as any of them; but his own sorrows raised him above this meanness in the present instance, and he passed the boys without a particle of interest in the fun.

He was going by the drunken man and the little girl, when one of the boldest of the pursuers rushed up and gave the man a push, which caused him to fall on the pavement. The young vagabonds raised a chorus of laughter, and shouted with all their might.[121] The little girl, who was evidently the drunkard's daughter, did not desert him. She bent over him, and used all her feeble powers to assist him to his feet again.

"My poor father!" sobbed she; and her heart seemed to be broken by the grief and peril which surrounded her.

The tones with which these words were spoken touched the heart of Noddy; and without stopping to consider any troublesome questions, he sprang to the assistance of the girl. The man was not utterly helpless; and with the aid of Noddy and his daughter he got upon his feet again. At that moment another of the unruly boys, emboldened by the feat of the first, rushed up and grasped the arm of the little girl, as if to pull her away from her father's support.

"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" pleaded the grief-stricken girl, in tones so full of sorrow that our wanderer could not resist them, if her vagabond persecutor could.

He sprang to her assistance, and with one vigorous and well-directed blow, he knocked the rude assailant halfway across the street, and left him sprawling on the pavement. Noddy did not wait to see what the boy would do next, but turned his atten[122]tion to the poor girl, whose situation, rather than that of her father, had awakened his sympathy.

"What is your father's name?" asked Noddy, who proceeded as though he had a sovereign remedy for the miseries of the situation.

"Captain McClintock," sobbed the little girl, still clinging to her father, with no sting of reproach in her words or her manner.

"Don't cry, little girl; I will do what I can for you," said Noddy, warmly. "I can lick those boys, if I can't do anything more."

"Thank you!" replied the afflicted daughter. "If I can only get him down to the vessel, I shall be so glad!"

"Want to fight?" shouted the young ruffian, whom Noddy had upset, coming as near the party as he dared.

"I'll give you fight, if you come near me again," replied the champion of the poor girl.

"Come on, if you want to fight," cried the little bully, who had not the pluck to approach within twenty feet of his late assailant.

The crowd of boys still shouted, and some of them carried their hostility so far as to throw sticks and stones at the little party; but as long as th............