Scamp and I: A Story of City By-Ways by L. T. Meade
walked down several by-streets, and took somevillainous-looking short cuts in absolute silence. Dick went a littlein advance of his companion, and kept his eyes well open, and at sightof any policeman exchanged, though without looking round, some signalwith Jenks; on which Jenks and Scamp would immediately, in somemysterious way, disappear from view, and Dick would toss a marble or twoout of his pocket and pretend to be aiming them one at the other, until,the danger gone by, Jenks and Scamp would once more make theirappearance. At last they came to streets of so low a character, wherethe "nippers," as they called them, so seldom walked, that they couldkeep together, and even venture on a little conversation.
Dick, who had been sadly depressed all day, began to feel his spiritsrising again. He had quite resolved never, never to be a thief no more,but this expedition would bring them in money in a way that even Flocould hardly disapprove of; at least, even if Flo did disapprove, shecould hardly call it dishonest. The dog was theirs, had come to them.If they could get money for the dog would they not be right to take it?_They_ were too poor to keep Scamp.
Just then Dick turned round and encountered a loving, trusting glancefrom the dumb creature's affectionate eyes, a sudden fit of compunctioncame over him, for _he_ knew to _what_ they were selling Scamp.
"S'pose as Scamp beats Maxey's young 'un?" he questioned to hiscompanion.
"Not 'ee," said Jenks contemptuously, "'ee's nothink but a street cur,and that young 'un is a reg'lar tip-topper, _I_ can tell yer."
"Well, Scamp 'ave sperrit too," said Dick.
"And ef 'ee 'adn't, would I bring 'im to Maxey? Would I insult Maxey'syoung dawg wid an hout and hout street cur wid no good points? Why,Maxey wouldn't give a tanner fur a cur _widout_ sperrit, you littlegreenhorn."
Here they stopped at the door of a low ale-house, where the company wereundoubtedly "doggy."
Jenks transferred Scamp to Dick's care, and disappeared into the public,from whence in a few moments he issued with a small stoutly-built man,of ill-looking and most repulsive aspect.
"I 'ave named my price," said Jenks, putting Scamp down on the groundand beginning to exhibit his different points. "Two bobs and a tanner,and a sight o' the fight fur me and this 'ere chap."
"Come, that's werry fine," said the man addressed as Maxey; "but 'ow isit, you young willan, you dares to insinniwate as _I_ 'ave dog-fights?Doesn't you know as dog-fight's 'gainst the law of the land? Youwouldn't like to see the hinside of Newgate fur bringin' this 'ere dogto me fur the purpose o' fightin' another dog? You didn't reckon _that_in the price of the dog. Come now, ef I doesn't give you into the handsof the perleece, and ef I takes the dog, and puts 'im away tidy, andgives you and yer pardener a tanner between yer? Come, that's lettinyer off cheap, ain't it?"
Dick was considerably frightened, but Jenks, taking these threats forwhat they were worth, held out firmly for two bobs and a tanner, whichin the end he obtained a promise of, on condition that for one week heshould tie up Scamp at home and feed him well. At the end of that timeMaxey was to have him back, who further promised that Jenks and Dickshould see the fight.
"And that 'ere's pretty sport," said Jenks, as well satisfied he turnedaway. "Maxey's young 'uns are alwis tip-toppers. Won't 'ee just giveit to this willan! I guess there'll be an hawful row, and not much o'Scamp left, by the time 'tis hover." But the further details with whichJenks favoured his young companion are too horrible to relate here. Inour Christian England these things are done--done in the dark it istrue, but still done.
Dog-fights, though punishable by law, are still held, and young boys andold men flock to them, and learn to be lower than the brutes indiabolical cruelty because of them.
It may still however puzzle those who read Scamp's history to know ofwhat use he could be in a dog-fight, as only thorough-bred dogs canfight well.
Alas! Scamp could be made use of; such dogs as Scamp can further thiswicked sport.
Such dogs are necessary in the training of the fighting-dogs. Jenksknew this well, hence his desire to obtain the poor animal.
His use was this--I here quote from Mr Greenwood's well-known "Low LifeDeeps."
"He at once good-naturedly explained to me the way in which a young(fighting) dog is trained.
"I was given to understand that the first practice a fighting pup hadwas with a `good old gummer,' that is to say, with a dog which had beena good one in his day, but was now old, and toothless, and incapable ofdoing more than `mumble' the juvenile antagonist that was set againsthim, the one great advantage being that the young dog gained practicalexperience in the making of `points.'
"The next stage, as I was informed, in training the young aspirant forpit-honours was to treat him to a `real mouthful,' or, in other words,`to let him taste dog'..." What this means, Mr Greenwood goes onpartially to explain, but the explanation is too fearful to be repeatedhere; suffice it to say that Scamp was the dog that Maxey's young 'unwas to taste.
Considerably elated, the boys started off on their way home. Thethought of two-and-sixpence, and a sight of a real dog-fight, was quiteenough to silence all Dick's scruples, and Jenks never had any.
Yet once, long ago now, Jenks had cried when the cat pounced on hiscanary, once Jenks had a kind heart. It was not all hard yet, thoughvery nearly so. Still some things could touch him, some faces, somewords, some tones, could reach a vulnerable part within him. He hardlyknew himself that the better part of him, not yet quite dead, wastouched, he only called it being in a fix. He was in a fix about Dick.It had been his intention, it had been his motive, in coming to live inthe Saint Giles's cellar, to train Dick as a thief, and if possible Floalso.
He was a very expert young hand himself,--no boy in London with lighterfingers, or more clever in dodging the police, than he. He knew thatthe first requisite for any successful thief was to possess an innocentappearance, and the moment he saw Dick and Flo he knew that their faceswould make their own, and probably his fortune, in this criminal trade.He had gone cautiously about his work, for eyes much less sharp than hismust have perceived that the children were strictly honest. Theirhonesty, their horror of theft, had filled him with surprise, and addedgreatly to his difficulties. He saw, however, that Dick was the weakerof the two, and his scruples he determined first to overcome. It tookhim some time, a whole month, but at last Dick fell, and Jenks wastriumphant. All now was smooth sailing with him, he was in high, thehighest spirits. Dick should be taken down skilfully step by step thebroad descent, and presently Flo would follow.
The bad boy's plans were all laid, when suddenly there came anobstacle--such an obstacle too--such a feather of a thing,--only achild's pleading voice and tearful eyes. What a fool Jenks was to mindso slight a thing!
He _was_ a fool then, for mind it he did. He liked Flo, in his way hewas fond of Flo, but she herself might go to ruin sooner than have anyof his plans injured. It was not for her sake he hesitated. No. Butshe had told him _why_ they were honest, why hard crusts and lives fullof hunger and want were sweeter to them than luxuries unfairly come by;and strange to say, for some inexplicable reason, this motive forhonesty approved itself to the boy, for some reason known only tohimself it raised a pain in his hardened heart, it roused the nearlydead conscience within him. He said to himself that the children'sconduct was plucky--real, awful plucky; that it would be a mean act ofhim to make thieves of them.
For ten minutes after his interview with Flo he resolved that nothing inthe world should induce him to do so; he resolved to go away as she hadasked him to go away, and leave them to pursue their honest careerunmolested, untempted by such as he. But in half-an-hour he hadwavered, had partly laughed off Flo's words, and had called all thatstuff about mothers--dead mothers--nonsense.
All day long he was undecided--he came back to the cellar at nightundecided; he had gone out with Dick and Scamp still not sure whether tokeep his promise to Flo or to break it. How was it that in returningfrom his interview with Maxey his resolutions to do right wavered moreand more?
/>
Perhaps it was because he had committed another cruel and evil deed, andso the little good in him died quickly out; perhaps, as certainly wasthe case, Satan was tempting him more than ever. Be this as it may,before Jenks fell asleep that night his mind was made up. Flo'sscruples were all folly, Dick had yielded once, he could, would, andshould yield again. If he proved obstinate Jenks had means in hispossession which would compel him to lead the life he wished. Yes,Jenks resolved that before many months were over their heads, not onlyDick, but Flo herself should be a thief. It should not be his fault ifDick and Flo were not two of the cleverest little thieves in London.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
AT THE DERBY.
Scamp had spent a very patient but not unhappy week in the cellar. Heknew nothing of his impending fate, consequently, as he had his mealsregularly, he felt himself troubled by no present cares.
_Had_ he known of his fate it is doubtful whether it would have causedhim uneasiness.
"Fight with another dog! with pleasure; with all the good will in theworld, and never show signs of flight, or turn felon."
So would have thought the dog whose father and mother were curs, but inwhose breast reigned as brave a spirit as ever one of the canine speciespossessed.
But Scamp, alas for you, poor fellow! you are inexperienced, and you donot know how the trained bull-dog can fight.
Jenks had secured him with a piece of rope to the broken table, but whenJenks and Dick were out Flo would unfasten him, and he would lie at herfeet and never attempt to run away.
Flo felt happy too at her hard work, for Scamp was such good company,and since his arrival none of the wicked boys and girls dared to throwdown broken bits of crockery, or sticks, or other rubbish at her.
Knowing she was timid they had often led her a sorry life, but now onenote of Scamp's fine deep bay (a gift from an old ancestor) would sendthem flying, and Flo could pursue her work in peace.
For the present, too, her mind was at rest about Dick--he was not onlynot thieving, but he was doing quite a profitable business in anotherway. Every morning he carried away his broom, and every evening, theweather being rather wet, he brought her in a nice little handful ofcoppers, as the result of his day's brooming; quite enough money to buyhonest red herrings and other dainties for supper and even breakfast.
Flo began to consider a broom and crossing quite a good trade, andrather contemplated taking it up herself. But in this desire both Jenksand Dick quite vehemently opposed her, and for the present she was happyover her never-ending cobbling.
Scamp's company was so pleasant, and so soothed the tedium of her life,that now and then little snatches of mother's old songs would rise toher lips.
She was walking down Duncan Street one day singing one of these in quitea sweet, clear voice, when a little pale girl on crutches, who lived ina cellar some six doors off, stopped her with the question--
"Does yer know the Glory Song?"
"No," said Flo; "wot is it?"
"I doesn't know it hall," said the little pale girl, "on'y a bit. Yereit is:
"`I'm glad I hever saw the Day, Sing glory, glory, glory, When first I larned to read and pray, Sing glory, glory, glory.'"
"Go on," said Flo, "that's pretty--that is."
"Oh! I doesn't know any more," said the little girl. "I larned thatbit wen I wor in 'Orspital, time my leg was tuk orf. Sister Evelinataught it to me. There wor a lot more, and it wor werry pretty, but Ion'y 'members that bit."
"Well, sing it agen," said Flo. The little girl sang.
"Wot's `read and pray'?" asked Flo.
"Oh! doesn't you know? Read! hout o' books of course; and pray! pray toGod--you knows that?"
"No, I doesn't," said Flo.
"Oh dear," said the other child rather patronisingly, "doesn't you know,`Our--Father--chart--'eaven'? Why, yer _be_ hignorant."
"Yes, I be," said Flo, no way offended. "I knows nothink 'cept beinghonest. Wot's `Our Father,' Janey?"
"Oh! 'tis quite long," said Janey, "you couldn't 'member it a bit.`Our--Father--chart 'eaven.' Our Father lives in 'eaven. There! that'shall--I'm in a 'urry."
"Then that ain't true," said Flo, "that ain't a bit o' it true. Myfather ain't in 'eaven, wherehever that is, 'ee's dead and in 'is grave,and yer father is at the Dolphin most times I guess. I wouldn't telllies ef I was you."
The pale girl flushed up angrily.
"There now, yer real oncivil," she said, "and I'll 'ave no more wordswid yer."
And she disappeared down the ladder into her cellar. Flo went back alsoto hers and resumed her work. She had a great deal to do, for thatevening she, and Dick, and Jenks, were to start on foot for the Derby.Jenks went every year as long as he could remember, but Dick and Flo hadnever been.
They had heard of it of course, as what London child has not? and weremuch excited at the prospect of at last joining the great and vast armyof tramps who year by year find their way to Epsom Downs.
Jenks assured them, too, that money honestly come by was made wholesaleat the Derby. Money come to you almost for the asking; sixpences werechanged into sovereigns by some magic art at that wonderful place. Thechildren were not going empty-handed. Flo was to be a "little-doll"girl.
Some dozens of these bought for twopence a dozen were to be soldto-morrow for a penny a-piece, or perhaps for more.
Flo counted how much she could make on her six dozen of dolls, and quiteexpected to realise a sum that would make things comfortable in thecellar for some weeks.
Dick was to sell fusees, and Jenks was to appear on the scenes in thecharacter of a boot-cleaning boy, balancing a black-box and brushes onhis head, and Scamp was to stay at home and keep house.
Flo had proposed his coming with them, but to this the boys objected,and she, considering she would have more than enough use for her legs,hands, voice, and eyes, and _might_ find Scamp an extra care, did notgrieve much over their decision.
What walking she would have, all the way from London to Epsom Downs;what use for her hands in holding her tray of dolls for so many hours;what use for her voice in advertising her property, in properlyproclaiming the value of her property, and endeavouring to attract thegents with white hats, who were fond of wearing such goods in theirbutton-holes, or stuck in a row round their head gear; above all, andthis was the pleasant part, what use for her eyes!
Right and left, before and behind, pretty things would surround her, andFlo _did_ so love pretty things.
It would be a grander sight than Regent Street, or Swan and Edgar's,grander, because the fine ladies, and the smart dresses, and the lovelyspirited horses would be there in such much vaster numbers!
She had her own slight but essential toilet preparations too to make.Her poor ragged cotton frock had got a rinse, and was drying by a smallfire, which, hot as the day was, was lit for the purpose, and she meantto look up mother's old bonnet, and if it _could_ be made presentable,wear it.
She hauled it out of a pasteboard band-box, and sat down on hercobbler's stool to contemplate it.
It was a very shaky, indeed fall-to-pieces, affair. A bonnet that hadonce been of a delicate white, but in its journey through life, havinghad to put up at several pawn-shops, had now reached a hue as farremoved from that colour as possible.
Flo, however, thought it quite fit to wear. She snipped it, and dustedit, and by the aid of some pins secured the battered old crown in itsplace.
She unfolded carefully every leaf of the gorgeous bunch of artificialflowers with which mother had ornamented it before she died. Thatbunch, consisting of some full-blown roses, tulips, and poppies, whichat a second-hand finery establishment had cost twopence, and to purchasewhich mother had once done without her dinner, that bunch was placed soas to rest on Flo's forehead, while two dirty ribbons of flaming yellowwere to do duty under her chin.
But while she worked she thought of Janey's words. She was sorry Janeyhad turned crusty, for undoubtedly the words were pretty, prettier thanany of moth
er's old songs. She would have liked to know more aboutthem!
"`I'm glad I hever saw the day,'" sang Flo, catching the air with herquick ear and voice.
But then she stopped to consider.
What day was she glad to see?
Well! no day that she knew of, unless it was to-morrow, the Derby Day.
She was not glad of the day she could read and pray, for that day hadnever come to her.
In her Duncan Street cellar, "the Board," that object of terror, hadnever reached her, therefore she could not read--and pray?--she did noteven know what "pray" meant.
Why did Janey go about singing such songs as nobody could understand?
Just then Jenks and Dick came rattling down the ladder crying noisilythat it was full time to be off; and Flo had to bustle about, and packher dolls, and put on her clean frock and wonderful bonnet, and finally,when she thought no one was looking, to stoop down and kiss Scamp on hisforehead, in return for which he washed her face quite over again withhis tongue. A basin of broken bread was set near the dog, then thechildren ran up the ladder, fastened down the door of the cellar, andset off.
"Will Maxey know which is _hour_ cellar wid the door shut?" asked Dick.
This remark Flo could make nothing of, but she was too much excited thento ask an explanation.
It
Dick, who had been sadly depressed all day, began to feel his spiritsrising again. He had quite resolved never, never to be a thief no more,but this expedition would bring them in money in a way that even Flocould hardly disapprove of; at least, even if Flo did disapprove, shecould hardly call it dishonest. The dog was theirs, had come to them.If they could get money for the dog would they not be right to take it?_They_ were too poor to keep Scamp.
Just then Dick turned round and encountered a loving, trusting glancefrom the dumb creature's affectionate eyes, a sudden fit of compunctioncame over him, for _he_ knew to _what_ they were selling Scamp.
"S'pose as Scamp beats Maxey's young 'un?" he questioned to hiscompanion.
"Not 'ee," said Jenks contemptuously, "'ee's nothink but a street cur,and that young 'un is a reg'lar tip-topper, _I_ can tell yer."
"Well, Scamp 'ave sperrit too," said Dick.
"And ef 'ee 'adn't, would I bring 'im to Maxey? Would I insult Maxey'syoung dawg wid an hout and hout street cur wid no good points? Why,Maxey wouldn't give a tanner fur a cur _widout_ sperrit, you littlegreenhorn."
Here they stopped at the door of a low ale-house, where the company wereundoubtedly "doggy."
Jenks transferred Scamp to Dick's care, and disappeared into the public,from whence in a few moments he issued with a small stoutly-built man,of ill-looking and most repulsive aspect.
"I 'ave named my price," said Jenks, putting Scamp down on the groundand beginning to exhibit his different points. "Two bobs and a tanner,and a sight o' the fight fur me and this 'ere chap."
"Come, that's werry fine," said the man addressed as Maxey; "but 'ow isit, you young willan, you dares to insinniwate as _I_ 'ave dog-fights?Doesn't you know as dog-fight's 'gainst the law of the land? Youwouldn't like to see the hinside of Newgate fur bringin' this 'ere dogto me fur the purpose o' fightin' another dog? You didn't reckon _that_in the price of the dog. Come now, ef I doesn't give you into the handsof the perleece, and ef I takes the dog, and puts 'im away tidy, andgives you and yer pardener a tanner between yer? Come, that's lettinyer off cheap, ain't it?"
Dick was considerably frightened, but Jenks, taking these threats forwhat they were worth, held out firmly for two bobs and a tanner, whichin the end he obtained a promise of, on condition that for one week heshould tie up Scamp at home and feed him well. At the end of that timeMaxey was to have him back, who further promised that Jenks and Dickshould see the fight.
"And that 'ere's pretty sport," said Jenks, as well satisfied he turnedaway. "Maxey's young 'uns are alwis tip-toppers. Won't 'ee just giveit to this willan! I guess there'll be an hawful row, and not much o'Scamp left, by the time 'tis hover." But the further details with whichJenks favoured his young companion are too horrible to relate here. Inour Christian England these things are done--done in the dark it istrue, but still done.
Dog-fights, though punishable by law, are still held, and young boys andold men flock to them, and learn to be lower than the brutes indiabolical cruelty because of them.
It may still however puzzle those who read Scamp's history to know ofwhat use he could be in a dog-fight, as only thorough-bred dogs canfight well.
Alas! Scamp could be made use of; such dogs as Scamp can further thiswicked sport.
Such dogs are necessary in the training of the fighting-dogs. Jenksknew this well, hence his desire to obtain the poor animal.
His use was this--I here quote from Mr Greenwood's well-known "Low LifeDeeps."
"He at once good-naturedly explained to me the way in which a young(fighting) dog is trained.
"I was given to understand that the first practice a fighting pup hadwas with a `good old gummer,' that is to say, with a dog which had beena good one in his day, but was now old, and toothless, and incapable ofdoing more than `mumble' the juvenile antagonist that was set againsthim, the one great advantage being that the young dog gained practicalexperience in the making of `points.'
"The next stage, as I was informed, in training the young aspirant forpit-honours was to treat him to a `real mouthful,' or, in other words,`to let him taste dog'..." What this means, Mr Greenwood goes onpartially to explain, but the explanation is too fearful to be repeatedhere; suffice it to say that Scamp was the dog that Maxey's young 'unwas to taste.
Considerably elated, the boys started off on their way home. Thethought of two-and-sixpence, and a sight of a real dog-fight, was quiteenough to silence all Dick's scruples, and Jenks never had any.
Yet once, long ago now, Jenks had cried when the cat pounced on hiscanary, once Jenks had a kind heart. It was not all hard yet, thoughvery nearly so. Still some things could touch him, some faces, somewords, some tones, could reach a vulnerable part within him. He hardlyknew himself that the better part of him, not yet quite dead, wastouched, he only called it being in a fix. He was in a fix about Dick.It had been his intention, it had been his motive, in coming to live inthe Saint Giles's cellar, to train Dick as a thief, and if possible Floalso.
He was a very expert young hand himself,--no boy in London with lighterfingers, or more clever in dodging the police, than he. He knew thatthe first requisite for any successful thief was to possess an innocentappearance, and the moment he saw Dick and Flo he knew that their faceswould make their own, and probably his fortune, in this criminal trade.He had gone cautiously about his work, for eyes much less sharp than hismust have perceived that the children were strictly honest. Theirhonesty, their horror of theft, had filled him with surprise, and addedgreatly to his difficulties. He saw, however, that Dick was the weakerof the two, and his scruples he determined first to overcome. It tookhim some time, a whole month, but at last Dick fell, and Jenks wastriumphant. All now was smooth sailing with him, he was in high, thehighest spirits. Dick should be taken down skilfully step by step thebroad descent, and presently Flo would follow.
The bad boy's plans were all laid, when suddenly there came anobstacle--such an obstacle too--such a feather of a thing,--only achild's pleading voice and tearful eyes. What a fool Jenks was to mindso slight a thing!
He _was_ a fool then, for mind it he did. He liked Flo, in his way hewas fond of Flo, but she herself might go to ruin sooner than have anyof his plans injured. It was not for her sake he hesitated. No. Butshe had told him _why_ they were honest, why hard crusts and lives fullof hunger and want were sweeter to them than luxuries unfairly come by;and strange to say, for some inexplicable reason, this motive forhonesty approved itself to the boy, for some reason known only tohimself it raised a pain in his hardened heart, it roused the nearlydead conscience within him. He said to himself that the children'sconduct was plucky--real, awful plucky; that it would be a mean act ofhim to make thieves of them.
For ten minutes after his interview with Flo he resolved that nothing inthe world should induce him to do so; he resolved to go away as she hadasked him to go away, and leave them to pursue their honest careerunmolested, untempted by such as he. But in half-an-hour he hadwavered, had partly laughed off Flo's words, and had called all thatstuff about mothers--dead mothers--nonsense.
All day long he was undecided--he came back to the cellar at nightundecided; he had gone out with Dick and Scamp still not sure whether tokeep his promise to Flo or to break it. How was it that in returningfrom his interview with Maxey his resolutions to do right wavered moreand more?
Perhaps it was because he had committed another cruel and evil deed, andso the little good in him died quickly out; perhaps, as certainly wasthe case, Satan was tempting him more than ever. Be this as it may,before Jenks fell asleep that night his mind was made up. Flo'sscruples were all folly, Dick had yielded once, he could, would, andshould yield again. If he proved obstinate Jenks had means in hispossession which would compel him to lead the life he wished. Yes,Jenks resolved that before many months were over their heads, not onlyDick, but Flo herself should be a thief. It should not be his fault ifDick and Flo were not two of the cleverest little thieves in London.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
AT THE DERBY.
Scamp had spent a very patient but not unhappy week in the cellar. Heknew nothing of his impending fate, consequently, as he had his mealsregularly, he felt himself troubled by no present cares.
_Had_ he known of his fate it is doubtful whether it would have causedhim uneasiness.
"Fight with another dog! with pleasure; with all the good will in theworld, and never show signs of flight, or turn felon."
So would have thought the dog whose father and mother were curs, but inwhose breast reigned as brave a spirit as ever one of the canine speciespossessed.
But Scamp, alas for you, poor fellow! you are inexperienced, and you donot know how the trained bull-dog can fight.
Jenks had secured him with a piece of rope to the broken table, but whenJenks and Dick were out Flo would unfasten him, and he would lie at herfeet and never attempt to run away.
Flo felt happy too at her hard work, for Scamp was such good company,and since his arrival none of the wicked boys and girls dared to throwdown broken bits of crockery, or sticks, or other rubbish at her.
Knowing she was timid they had often led her a sorry life, but now onenote of Scamp's fine deep bay (a gift from an old ancestor) would sendthem flying, and Flo could pursue her work in peace.
For the present, too, her mind was at rest about Dick--he was not onlynot thieving, but he was doing quite a profitable business in anotherway. Every morning he carried away his broom, and every evening, theweather being rather wet, he brought her in a nice little handful ofcoppers, as the result of his day's brooming; quite enough money to buyhonest red herrings and other dainties for supper and even breakfast.
Flo began to consider a broom and crossing quite a good trade, andrather contemplated taking it up herself. But in this desire both Jenksand Dick quite vehemently opposed her, and for the present she was happyover her never-ending cobbling.
Scamp's company was so pleasant, and so soothed the tedium of her life,that now and then little snatches of mother's old songs would rise toher lips.
She was walking down Duncan Street one day singing one of these in quitea sweet, clear voice, when a little pale girl on crutches, who lived ina cellar some six doors off, stopped her with the question--
"Does yer know the Glory Song?"
"No," said Flo; "wot is it?"
"I doesn't know it hall," said the little pale girl, "on'y a bit. Yereit is:
"`I'm glad I hever saw the Day, Sing glory, glory, glory, When first I larned to read and pray, Sing glory, glory, glory.'"
"Go on," said Flo, "that's pretty--that is."
"Oh! I doesn't know any more," said the little girl. "I larned thatbit wen I wor in 'Orspital, time my leg was tuk orf. Sister Evelinataught it to me. There wor a lot more, and it wor werry pretty, but Ion'y 'members that bit."
"Well, sing it agen," said Flo. The little girl sang.
"Wot's `read and pray'?" asked Flo.
"Oh! doesn't you know? Read! hout o' books of course; and pray! pray toGod--you knows that?"
"No, I doesn't," said Flo.
"Oh dear," said the other child rather patronisingly, "doesn't you know,`Our--Father--chart--'eaven'? Why, yer _be_ hignorant."
"Yes, I be," said Flo, no way offended. "I knows nothink 'cept beinghonest. Wot's `Our Father,' Janey?"
"Oh! 'tis quite long," said Janey, "you couldn't 'member it a bit.`Our--Father--chart 'eaven.' Our Father lives in 'eaven. There! that'shall--I'm in a 'urry."
"Then that ain't true," said Flo, "that ain't a bit o' it true. Myfather ain't in 'eaven, wherehever that is, 'ee's dead and in 'is grave,and yer father is at the Dolphin most times I guess. I wouldn't telllies ef I was you."
The pale girl flushed up angrily.
"There now, yer real oncivil," she said, "and I'll 'ave no more wordswid yer."
And she disappeared down the ladder into her cellar. Flo went back alsoto hers and resumed her work. She had a great deal to do, for thatevening she, and Dick, and Jenks, were to start on foot for the Derby.Jenks went every year as long as he could remember, but Dick and Flo hadnever been.
They had heard of it of course, as what London child has not? and weremuch excited at the prospect of at last joining the great and vast armyof tramps who year by year find their way to Epsom Downs.
Jenks assured them, too, that money honestly come by was made wholesaleat the Derby. Money come to you almost for the asking; sixpences werechanged into sovereigns by some magic art at that wonderful place. Thechildren were not going empty-handed. Flo was to be a "little-doll"girl.
Some dozens of these bought for twopence a dozen were to be soldto-morrow for a penny a-piece, or perhaps for more.
Flo counted how much she could make on her six dozen of dolls, and quiteexpected to realise a sum that would make things comfortable in thecellar for some weeks.
Dick was to sell fusees, and Jenks was to appear on the scenes in thecharacter of a boot-cleaning boy, balancing a black-box and brushes onhis head, and Scamp was to stay at home and keep house.
Flo had proposed his coming with them, but to this the boys objected,and she, considering she would have more than enough use for her legs,hands, voice, and eyes, and _might_ find Scamp an extra care, did notgrieve much over their decision.
What walking she would have, all the way from London to Epsom Downs;what use for her hands in holding her tray of dolls for so many hours;what use for her voice in advertising her property, in properlyproclaiming the value of her property, and endeavouring to attract thegents with white hats, who were fond of wearing such goods in theirbutton-holes, or stuck in a row round their head gear; above all, andthis was the pleasant part, what use for her eyes!
Right and left, before and behind, pretty things would surround her, andFlo _did_ so love pretty things.
It would be a grander sight than Regent Street, or Swan and Edgar's,grander, because the fine ladies, and the smart dresses, and the lovelyspirited horses would be there in such much vaster numbers!
She had her own slight but essential toilet preparations too to make.Her poor ragged cotton frock had got a rinse, and was drying by a smallfire, which, hot as the day was, was lit for the purpose, and she meantto look up mother's old bonnet, and if it _could_ be made presentable,wear it.
She hauled it out of a pasteboard band-box, and sat down on hercobbler's stool to contemplate it.
It was a very shaky, indeed fall-to-pieces, affair. A bonnet that hadonce been of a delicate white, but in its journey through life, havinghad to put up at several pawn-shops, had now reached a hue as farremoved from that colour as possible.
Flo, however, thought it quite fit to wear. She snipped it, and dustedit, and by the aid of some pins secured the battered old crown in itsplace.
She unfolded carefully every leaf of the gorgeous bunch of artificialflowers with which mother had ornamented it before she died. Thatbunch, consisting of some full-blown roses, tulips, and poppies, whichat a second-hand finery establishment had cost twopence, and to purchasewhich mother had once done without her dinner, that bunch was placed soas to rest on Flo's forehead, while two dirty ribbons of flaming yellowwere to do duty under her chin.
But while she worked she thought of Janey's words. She was sorry Janeyhad turned crusty, for undoubtedly the words were pretty, prettier thanany of moth
"`I'm glad I hever saw the day,'" sang Flo, catching the air with herquick ear and voice.
But then she stopped to consider.
What day was she glad to see?
Well! no day that she knew of, unless it was to-morrow, the Derby Day.
She was not glad of the day she could read and pray, for that day hadnever come to her.
In her Duncan Street cellar, "the Board," that object of terror, hadnever reached her, therefore she could not read--and pray?--she did noteven know what "pray" meant.
Why did Janey go about singing such songs as nobody could understand?
Just then Jenks and Dick came rattling down the ladder crying noisilythat it was full time to be off; and Flo had to bustle about, and packher dolls, and put on her clean frock and wonderful bonnet, and finally,when she thought no one was looking, to stoop down and kiss Scamp on hisforehead, in return for which he washed her face quite over again withhis tongue. A basin of broken bread was set near the dog, then thechildren ran up the ladder, fastened down the door of the cellar, andset off.
"Will Maxey know which is _hour_ cellar wid the door shut?" asked Dick.
This remark Flo could make nothing of, but she was too much excited thento ask an explanation.
It