Poor Burgo! All who had seen him since life had begun with him had loved him and striven to cherish him. And with it all, to what a state had he come! Poor Burgo! had his eyes been less brightly blue, and his face less godlike in form, it may be that things would have gone better with him. A sweeter-tempered man than he never lived,--nor one who was of a kinder nature. At this moment he had barely money about him to take him down to his aunt's house at Monkshade, and as he had promised to be there before Christmas Day, he was bound to start on the next morning, before help from Mr. Magruin was possible. Nevertheless, out of his very narrow funds he had given half a crown to comfort the poor creature who had spoken to him in the street.
Poor Burgo! All his life, people had loved him and tried to cherish him. Yet to what a state had he come! Poor Burgo! If his face had been less godlike, maybe things would have gone better with him. A sweeter-tempered man never lived. He had barely enough money to take him to his aunt's house at Monkshade the next morning. Nevertheless, he had given half a crown to comfort the poor creature who had spoken to him in the street.