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Dick soon made up his mind to live with this kind, good man. The man
was not rich. He had to work hard, and Dick was made to work too. But
he did not mind that.
But the girl was not kind to Dick. She gave him a box on the ear when
he did not do as she bid him. She did not let him sit down to eat till
she had done, and all that she gave him was the bits that she had
left. She made him a bed of a pile of old rags, at one end of the
loft.
Dick had no one now to show him how to be good, and he soon got to be
a bad boy. He told lies, and when no eye was on him, he took what was
not his. He did not know God saw him. He used a bad word now and
then, and did not work so well as once he did.
The man who took Dick to live with him was sad to see him such a bad
boy, and did not know what to do with him.
Dick had now no joy in life, for no bad boy can be gay and glad. But
he did not like to feel that he was made sad by his own bad ways. He
said it was the way he had to live that made him bad.
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