Scamp and I: A Story of City By-Ways by L. T. Meade
yet."
CHAPTER FIVE.
JENKS PASSES HIS WORD.
But Flo knew even better than her little brother that it would be easierfor Dick to steal the second time than the first.
Very few boys and girls she had ever heard of, none indeed, had left offprigging from stalls, and snatching from bakers' shops, and thrustingtheir hands into old gentlemen's pockets, when once they had begun to doso.
Not punishment, not even prison, could break them. They had their timeof confinement, and then out they came, with more thieving propensitiesthan ever.
Her mother had told her stories upon stories of what these children, wholooked some of them so innocent, and began in this small way, had endedwith--penal servitude for life--sometimes even the gallows.
She had made her hair stand on end with frightful accounts of their lastdays in the murderers' cells--how day and night the warder watched them,and how when being led out to execution they passed in some cases overtheir own graves.
And children once as innocent as Flo and Dick had come to this.
Now Flo knew that as mother had not appeared the first time Dick stole,she might not the second, and then he would gradually cease to beafraid, and learn to be a regular thief.
The only chance was to save him from temptation, to part him from Jenks.
Flo liked Jenks very much--he had a bright way about him, he was neverrough with her, but, on the contrary, had not only helped to keep thepot boiling, but had cobbled vigorously over her old boots and shoes,when he happened to come home in time in the evenings.
Still, nice as he was, if he was a thief, and they meant never to bethieves, the sooner they parted company the better.
She knew well that Dick would never have courage to say to Jenks what heought to say, she knew that this task must be hers.
Accordingly, in the first light of the summer morning, though all theysaw of it in the cellar was a slanting ray which came down through thehole in the pavement, when in that early light Jenks stumbled to hisfeet, and running his fingers through his shaggy hair by way of toilet,ran up the ladder, Flo, rising softly, for fear of waking Dick, followedhim.
"Jenks," she said, laying her hand timidly on his coat-sleeve, "I wantsfur to speak to you."
Jenks turned round with merry eyes.
"I'm yer 'umble servant, my Lady, the Hearl's wife," he said, with amock bow to Flo; but then noticing her white little anxious face, hechanged his tone to one of compassion. "Why, wot hever ails you, young'un? You is all of a tremble. Come along and 'ave a drop of 'ot coffeeat the stalls."
"No, Jenks, I doesn't want to. Jenks, I come fur to say as you, and me,and Dick mustn't be pardeners no more. You mustn't come no more to thisyere cellar, Jenks."
Jenks was about to ask why, but he changed his mind and resumed hismocking tone.
"My Lady, you is alwis werry perlite--you is not one of them fine damesas welwet, and silk, and feathers maks too 'igh and mighty to speak to achap. Might a poor and 'umble feller ax you then to be so werryobligin' as to tell 'im the reason of this 'eart-breakin' horder."
Here Jenks pretended to whimper.
"Yes, Jenks, I'll tell you," said Flo; "'tis because Dick and me isn'tnever goin' to be _thiefs_, Jenks. Dick did prig the purse yesterday,but 'ees never, never goin' to do so no more."
Jenks was silent, and Flo after a pause continued--"I wants fur to beperlite to you, Jenks. I likes you, Jenks, and now I'm goin' to tellyou why."
"Oh! my heyes," said Jenks, "that's an honour. Oh! my stars! can Iabear so big an honour? 'Old me, Flo, I feels kind of top 'eavy. Nowthen, break it heasy, Flo."
"I never know'd as yer trade was that of a thief, Jenks," quietlycontinued the little girl. "I thought as it wor a real nice trade as meand Dick might larn, and we mustn't larn that, not ef we was to starve.Dick and me must never be thiefs. But, Jenks, I'm not a blamin' you--itain't wrong fur you, Jenks--you 'adn't never a mother, as telled you tokeep an honest boy."
At these words Jenks started violently, the fun died out of his face,and he looked quite white and shaky.
"Why does you say that?" he asked rather savagely. "How does yer daresay as I 'av'n't a mother? as honest a woman as hever walked."
"I doesn't say it, Jenks. I on'y ses that _if_ you 'ad a mother as wasalwis honest, and, no, not ef we was starvin' would prig anythink, andthat mother lay a dyin', and she axed yer werry soft and lovin' to keephonest, and never, no never to steal nothink, and you promised yermother 'cause you loved 'er; would you be a thief then, Jenks?"
"Moonshine!" growled Jenks.
"No, but _would_ you, Jenks?"
"How can I tell?" replied Jenks. "Look yere, Flo, leave _off_ aboutmothers, do. Wot does I know of such? Say wot yer 'as to say, as Imust be gone."
"I wants you not to come back no more, dear Jenks, and never, never tospeak to Dick no more."
"_Dear_ Jenks, come back no more," mimicked the boy. "And why not,little sweetheart?"
"'Cause you is a thief, and you is larnin' thiefin' to Dick."
"Oh my! the precious young cove, I didn't know as 'ee was to be rearedhup so tender. But why does you say as _I_ am a thief, Flo--it wor Dicktuk the purse yesterday."
"But you larned 'im _'ow_ to take it, Jenks."
"No, I didn't, 'ee larned 'imself, 'ee wanted none of my coddlin' anddressin'. Tell yer 'ee'd make a real stunnin' thief arter a bit. ButI'll not teach 'im nothink, not I. No, Flo," (this gravely), "I'llpromise yer this, and yere's my 'and on it, ef I sees 'im touch so muchas a brass farthing, I'll give 'im a whackin' as 'ull soon teach 'im tobe an honest boy."
"And you won't come back no more?"
"I won't say that--the cellar's conwenient, and I pays fur 'arf. Yes,I'll turn in to-night, and as long as I 'ave a mind to. Now I'm orf tomy work--wot _ain't_ that of a thief," and snapping his fingersdisdainfully, Jenks disappeared.
Flo stood for a moment, her hand over her eyes, looking up the hotstreet. Her mission she felt was only half accomplished, but it wassome consolation to know, that the next time Dick acted the part of athief, his companion, instead of loading him with praise, would bestowon him instead a far-sounding whacking.
Flo did not mind how hard it was, if only it saved her brother fromfollowing in the steps of those boys of whom her mother had so oftentold her.
CHAPTER SIX.
GIVE THE POOR DOG A BONE.
That knowing dog Scamp was rather puzzled on the evening after hisarrival, at the marked change in the manners of Dick and Jenks towardshim. Clever as he was, their total change of manner threw him off hisguard, and he began to accuse himself of ingratitude in supposing thatat any time they had not wished for his company, that at any time theyhad treated him as an intruder. Not a bit of it. Here were theypatting and making much of him; here was that good-natured fellow Jenksallowing him to repose his big, awkward body across his knees, while Floand Dick, who had been indoors all day very grave and silent, were nowin fits of laughter over his rough attempts at play.
"Flo," said Jenks, pulling some loose coppers out of his ragged vestpocket, "ef you'll buy wittles fur the dawg fur a week, I'll pay 'em."
And then he further produced from some mysterious store a good-sized,juicy bone, cut from a shank of mutton, which bone he rubbed gentlyagainst the dog's nose, finally allowing him to place it between histeeth and take possession of it. As Scamp on the floor munched, andworried, and gnawed that bone, so strong were his feelings of gratitudeto Jenks, that he would have found it easy, quite easy, to follow him tothe world's end.
And so Jenks seemed to think, for when supper was over he arose, andgiving Dick an almost imperceptible nod, he called Scamp, and the boysand the dog went out.
They walked nearly to the end of the street, and then Jenks caught upScamp, and endeavoured to hide him with his ragged jacket. This was noeasy matter, for in every particular the dog was ungainly--too large inone part, too small in another. Impossible for a tattered coat-sleeveto hide that great r
ough head, which in sheer affection, caused by thememory of that bone, would push itself up and lick his face. Jenksbestowed upon him in return for this regard several severe cuffs, andwas altogether rough and unpleasant in his treatment; and had Scamp notbeen accustomed to, and, so to speak, hardened to such things, hisfeelings might and probably would have been considerably hurt. As itwas, he took it philosophically, and perceiving that he was not atpresent to show affection, ceased to do so.
The boys
CHAPTER FIVE.
JENKS PASSES HIS WORD.
But Flo knew even better than her little brother that it would be easierfor Dick to steal the second time than the first.
Very few boys and girls she had ever heard of, none indeed, had left offprigging from stalls, and snatching from bakers' shops, and thrustingtheir hands into old gentlemen's pockets, when once they had begun to doso.
Not punishment, not even prison, could break them. They had their timeof confinement, and then out they came, with more thieving propensitiesthan ever.
Her mother had told her stories upon stories of what these children, wholooked some of them so innocent, and began in this small way, had endedwith--penal servitude for life--sometimes even the gallows.
She had made her hair stand on end with frightful accounts of their lastdays in the murderers' cells--how day and night the warder watched them,and how when being led out to execution they passed in some cases overtheir own graves.
And children once as innocent as Flo and Dick had come to this.
Now Flo knew that as mother had not appeared the first time Dick stole,she might not the second, and then he would gradually cease to beafraid, and learn to be a regular thief.
The only chance was to save him from temptation, to part him from Jenks.
Flo liked Jenks very much--he had a bright way about him, he was neverrough with her, but, on the contrary, had not only helped to keep thepot boiling, but had cobbled vigorously over her old boots and shoes,when he happened to come home in time in the evenings.
Still, nice as he was, if he was a thief, and they meant never to bethieves, the sooner they parted company the better.
She knew well that Dick would never have courage to say to Jenks what heought to say, she knew that this task must be hers.
Accordingly, in the first light of the summer morning, though all theysaw of it in the cellar was a slanting ray which came down through thehole in the pavement, when in that early light Jenks stumbled to hisfeet, and running his fingers through his shaggy hair by way of toilet,ran up the ladder, Flo, rising softly, for fear of waking Dick, followedhim.
"Jenks," she said, laying her hand timidly on his coat-sleeve, "I wantsfur to speak to you."
Jenks turned round with merry eyes.
"I'm yer 'umble servant, my Lady, the Hearl's wife," he said, with amock bow to Flo; but then noticing her white little anxious face, hechanged his tone to one of compassion. "Why, wot hever ails you, young'un? You is all of a tremble. Come along and 'ave a drop of 'ot coffeeat the stalls."
"No, Jenks, I doesn't want to. Jenks, I come fur to say as you, and me,and Dick mustn't be pardeners no more. You mustn't come no more to thisyere cellar, Jenks."
Jenks was about to ask why, but he changed his mind and resumed hismocking tone.
"My Lady, you is alwis werry perlite--you is not one of them fine damesas welwet, and silk, and feathers maks too 'igh and mighty to speak to achap. Might a poor and 'umble feller ax you then to be so werryobligin' as to tell 'im the reason of this 'eart-breakin' horder."
Here Jenks pretended to whimper.
"Yes, Jenks, I'll tell you," said Flo; "'tis because Dick and me isn'tnever goin' to be _thiefs_, Jenks. Dick did prig the purse yesterday,but 'ees never, never goin' to do so no more."
Jenks was silent, and Flo after a pause continued--"I wants fur to beperlite to you, Jenks. I likes you, Jenks, and now I'm goin' to tellyou why."
"Oh! my heyes," said Jenks, "that's an honour. Oh! my stars! can Iabear so big an honour? 'Old me, Flo, I feels kind of top 'eavy. Nowthen, break it heasy, Flo."
"I never know'd as yer trade was that of a thief, Jenks," quietlycontinued the little girl. "I thought as it wor a real nice trade as meand Dick might larn, and we mustn't larn that, not ef we was to starve.Dick and me must never be thiefs. But, Jenks, I'm not a blamin' you--itain't wrong fur you, Jenks--you 'adn't never a mother, as telled you tokeep an honest boy."
At these words Jenks started violently, the fun died out of his face,and he looked quite white and shaky.
"Why does you say that?" he asked rather savagely. "How does yer daresay as I 'av'n't a mother? as honest a woman as hever walked."
"I doesn't say it, Jenks. I on'y ses that _if_ you 'ad a mother as wasalwis honest, and, no, not ef we was starvin' would prig anythink, andthat mother lay a dyin', and she axed yer werry soft and lovin' to keephonest, and never, no never to steal nothink, and you promised yermother 'cause you loved 'er; would you be a thief then, Jenks?"
"Moonshine!" growled Jenks.
"No, but _would_ you, Jenks?"
"How can I tell?" replied Jenks. "Look yere, Flo, leave _off_ aboutmothers, do. Wot does I know of such? Say wot yer 'as to say, as Imust be gone."
"I wants you not to come back no more, dear Jenks, and never, never tospeak to Dick no more."
"_Dear_ Jenks, come back no more," mimicked the boy. "And why not,little sweetheart?"
"'Cause you is a thief, and you is larnin' thiefin' to Dick."
"Oh my! the precious young cove, I didn't know as 'ee was to be rearedhup so tender. But why does you say as _I_ am a thief, Flo--it wor Dicktuk the purse yesterday."
"But you larned 'im _'ow_ to take it, Jenks."
"No, I didn't, 'ee larned 'imself, 'ee wanted none of my coddlin' anddressin'. Tell yer 'ee'd make a real stunnin' thief arter a bit. ButI'll not teach 'im nothink, not I. No, Flo," (this gravely), "I'llpromise yer this, and yere's my 'and on it, ef I sees 'im touch so muchas a brass farthing, I'll give 'im a whackin' as 'ull soon teach 'im tobe an honest boy."
"And you won't come back no more?"
"I won't say that--the cellar's conwenient, and I pays fur 'arf. Yes,I'll turn in to-night, and as long as I 'ave a mind to. Now I'm orf tomy work--wot _ain't_ that of a thief," and snapping his fingersdisdainfully, Jenks disappeared.
Flo stood for a moment, her hand over her eyes, looking up the hotstreet. Her mission she felt was only half accomplished, but it wassome consolation to know, that the next time Dick acted the part of athief, his companion, instead of loading him with praise, would bestowon him instead a far-sounding whacking.
Flo did not mind how hard it was, if only it saved her brother fromfollowing in the steps of those boys of whom her mother had so oftentold her.
CHAPTER SIX.
GIVE THE POOR DOG A BONE.
That knowing dog Scamp was rather puzzled on the evening after hisarrival, at the marked change in the manners of Dick and Jenks towardshim. Clever as he was, their total change of manner threw him off hisguard, and he began to accuse himself of ingratitude in supposing thatat any time they had not wished for his company, that at any time theyhad treated him as an intruder. Not a bit of it. Here were theypatting and making much of him; here was that good-natured fellow Jenksallowing him to repose his big, awkward body across his knees, while Floand Dick, who had been indoors all day very grave and silent, were nowin fits of laughter over his rough attempts at play.
"Flo," said Jenks, pulling some loose coppers out of his ragged vestpocket, "ef you'll buy wittles fur the dawg fur a week, I'll pay 'em."
And then he further produced from some mysterious store a good-sized,juicy bone, cut from a shank of mutton, which bone he rubbed gentlyagainst the dog's nose, finally allowing him to place it between histeeth and take possession of it. As Scamp on the floor munched, andworried, and gnawed that bone, so strong were his feelings of gratitudeto Jenks, that he would have found it easy, quite easy, to follow him tothe world's end.
And so Jenks seemed to think, for when supper was over he arose, andgiving Dick an almost imperceptible nod, he called Scamp, and the boysand the dog went out.
They walked nearly to the end of the street, and then Jenks caught upScamp, and endeavoured to hide him with his ragged jacket. This was noeasy matter, for in every particular the dog was ungainly--too large inone part, too small in another. Impossible for a tattered coat-sleeveto hide that great r
The boys