“Wishermaydie if I don’t, sir,” says Jo, reverting to his favourite declaration.  “I never done nothink yet but wot you knows on to get myself into no trouble.  I never wos in no other trouble at all, sir, ’cept not knowing nothink and starwation.”

“I believe it,” said Allan; “and now you must lie down and rest.”

“Let me lay here quiet, and not be chivied any more,” falters Jo, after he has been assisted to his bed and given medicine; “and be so kind any person as is a-passing nigh where I used fur to sweep, as to say to Mr. Snagsby that Jo, wot he knowed wunst, is a-movin’ on right forards with his duty, and I’ll be wery thankful!”

At the boy’s request, later, Mr. Snagsby is sent for, and Jo is very glad to see his old friend, and says when they are alone that he “takes it uncommon kind as Mr. Snagsby should come so far out of his way on account of sich as him.”

“Mr. Snagsby,” says Jo, “I went and give an illness to a lady, and none of ’em never says nothink to me for having done it, on account of their being so good and my having been so unfortnet.  The lady come herself and see me yes’day, and she ses, ‘Jo,’ she ses, ‘we thought we’d lost you, Jo,’ she ses; and she sits down a-smilin’ so quiet, and don’t pass a word nor yit a look upon me for having done it, she don’t; and I turns agin the wall, I doos, Mr. Snagsby.  And Mr. Woodcot, he come to give me somethink to ease me, wot he’s allus a-doing on day and night, and wen he come over me and a-speakin’ up so bold, I see his tears a-fallin’, Mr. Snagsby.”

After this, Jo lies in a stupor most of the time, and Allan Woodcourt, coming in a little later, stands looking down on the wasted form, thinking of the thousands of strong, merry boys to whom the story of Jo’s life would sound incredible.  As he stands there, Jo rouses with a start.

“Well, Jo, what is the matter?  Don’t be frightened.”

“I thought,” says Jo, who had stared and is looking around, “I thought I wos in Tom-all-Alone’s again.  Ain’t there nobody here but you, Mr. Woodcot?”

“Nobody.”

“And I ain’t took back to Tom-all-Alone’s.  Am I, sir?”

“No.”

Jo closes his eyes, muttering, “I’m wery thankful!”

After watching him closely for a little while, Allan puts his mouth very near his ear, and says to him in a low, distinct voice: 

“Jo, did you ever know a prayer?”

“Never knowed no think, sir!”

“Not so much as one short prayer?”

“No, sir.  Nothink at all, sir.  Mr. Chadbands he wos a-praying wunst at Mr. Snagsby’s, and I heerd him, but he sounded as if he wos a-speaking to hisself and not to me.  He prayed a lot, but I couldn’t make out nothink on it.  I never knowed wot it wos all about.”

It takes him a long time to say this, and few but an experienced and attentive listener could hear, or hearing understand him.  After a short relapse into sleep or a stupor he makes of a sudden a strong effort to get out of bed.