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Book, page 190 / 281 "Milk! oh my I oh goody! yes," answered the child, a gleam of pleasure coming into his face. "Then you shall have some;" and catching up a broken mug, the man went out. In a minute or two he returned with a pint of milk, into which he broke a piece of bread, and then sat watching Andy as he filled himself with the most delicious food he had tasted for weeks, his marred face beaming with a higher satisfaction than he had known for a long time. "Is it good?" asked the man. "I bet you!" was the cheery answer. "Well, you're a little brick," laughed the man as he stroked Andy's head. "And you don't live anywhere?" "No." "Is your mother dead?" "Yes." "And your father?" "Hain't got no father." "Would you like to live here?" Andy looked toward the empty bowl from which he had made such a satisfying meal, and said, "Yes." "It will hold us both. You're not very big;" and as he said this the man drew his arm about the boy in a fond sort of way. "I guess you're tired," he added, for Andy, now that an arm was drawn around him, leaned against it heavily.
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