Scamp and I: A Story of City By-Ways by L. T. Meade
was eight o'clock when the children started, therefore the great heatwas over. At first they walked alone, then two or three, going in thesame direction, joined them, then half-a-dozen more, and so on, untilthey found themselves with quite a number of people all Epsom bound.
At first Flo did not like this, she would have much preferred to trudgealong, away past hot and dismal London, with only Dick and Jenks forcompany, but after a time she saw the advantage of this arrangement, forshe was unaccustomed to walking, and soon her little feet grew very,very weary, and then the good-natured cadgers and tramps turned outagreeable acquaintances. One woman kindly carried her tray of dolls,and some men with a large barrow of fried fish, taking pity on her wearylittle face, allowed her to have a seat on one corner of their greatbarrow, and in this way she got over many a mile. But the way was verylong, and by the time the weary multitude had reached Epsom town it wasnearly one in the morning.
No rest for them here, however; whether they wished it or not, whetherthey could pay for food and shelter or not, the vigilant police wouldallow no halt in the town, they must move on. So on they moved, untilat last Flo and Dick and Jenks, with many other worn-out tramps, werevery glad to huddle together against the walls of the Grand Stand,which, quiet enough now, would in a few hours blaze with such life andbeauty.
The little girl was in a sound sleep, dreaming confused dreams, in whichJaney's songs, Scamp's face, and the Epsom races were all mingled, whena hand laid on her shoulder roused her from her slumbers.
"Wot is it, Jenks? is it time fur me to begin sellin'?" she exclaimedwith a confused start.
"No, no," said Jenks, "it ain't time fur hages yet. Wait till the folksbegin to come. Why, there's on'y us tramps yere yet."
"Then why did you wake me, Jenks? I was so werry sound asleep."
"Well--see, Flo--I wanted fur to tell yer--you see this is a big place,and we 'as come, you and me and Dick, to do a trade yere, and wot I sesis this, as we mustn't keep together, we mustn't on no 'count keeptogether. You go one way wid the dolls, and a pretty penny _they'll_fetch this blessed day, I hears said; Dick 'ull start in another'rection wid the fusees, and I must be yere, and there, and heverywheres, to keep the gents' boots bright. So good mornin' to yer, Flo;you meet us yere in the evenin' wid a good pocket full, and yere'ssixpence fur yer breakfast," and before Flo had time to open her lipsfrom sheer astonishment, Jenks was gone.
She was alone, alone on Epsom common. With that sea of strange facesround her she was utterly alone.
Very poor children, at least those children who have to fight the battleof life, never cry much. However tender their hearts may be--and manyof them have most tender and loving hearts, God bless them!--there is acertain hardening upper crust which forbids the constant flow of tears.
But something very smarting did come up now to the little girl's eyes.She sat down wearily,--so much fun had she expected roaming about withDick and Jenks, how happy she thought she would have been with thecountry air blowing upon her, the country sun--he never shone like thatin the town--shining on her face. And now she would be afraid--for shewas a timid child--to stir.
Oh, it was wrong of Jenks, though Jenks was only her friend, but howtruly _unkind_ it was of Dick to leave her!
Just then another hand was laid on her shoulder, and a gentle voicesaid--
"Is anything the matter, little child?"
Flo raised her eyes, and a middle-aged woman, with a face as kind as hervoice, and an appearance very much more respectable than the crowdsabout her, stood by her side.
"Are you waiting for your mother, my dear?" said the woman again,finding that Flo only gazed at her, and did not speak. "Or don't youwant to come and get some breakfast?"
"Please, mum," said Flo, suddenly starting to her feet, and rememberingthat she was very hungry, "may I go wid you and 'ave some breakfast? I'ave got sixpence to buy it, mum."
"Come, then," said the woman, "I will take care of you. Here, give meyour dolls," and holding the dolls' tray in one hand, and the childherself by the other, she went across to where a bustling, hungry throngwere surrounding the coffee-stalls.
Flo and her companion were presently served, and then they sat down onthe first quiet spot they could find to enjoy their meal.
"Is you in the small-dolls, or the Aunt Sally, or the clothes'brusher's, or the shoe-blacker's line, mum?" asked Flo, who observedthat her companion was not carrying any goods for sale.
"No, child, I don't do business here--I only come to look on."
"Oh, that's werry fine fur you!" said Flo; "but is it as yer don't findsellin' make? Why, I 'spects to make a penny, and maybe tuppence, onhevery one of these blessed dolls."
"Is this the first time you have been here?" asked the woman.
"Yes, mum."
"And have you come alone?"
"Oh no, mum; I come along o' my brother, a little chap, and a biggerfeller."
"Then you ought to be with them. This is not a safe place for a littlegirl to be all alone in."
"Oh, they doesn't want me," said Flo; "the little chap's in the fuseeline, and the big 'un's in the blackin' line, and they says as it 'udspile the trade fur a small-dolls seller to be along o' them. That's'ow I'm alone, ma'am," and here veritable tears did fill the child'seyes to overflowing.
"Well, I am alone too," said her companion in a kinder tone than ever;"so if you wish to stay with me you may; I can show you the best partsto sell your dolls in."
And this was the beginning of one of the brightest days Flo had ever yetspent. How she did enjoy the breezes on the common now that she had acompanion, how she did gaze at the wonderful, ever-increasing crowd.
She had soon told her story to her new friend; all about Dick andherself, and their mother, and their promise to be honest; something tooabout Scamp, and also about the big feller who she was afraid was athief, but whose name somehow she forgot to mention.
In return her companion told her something of her own story.
"I come year after year out here," she said sadly. "Not that I sellshere, or knows anything of the Derby; but I come looking for one that Ilove--one that has gone like the prodigal astray, but like the prodigalhe'll come back--he'll come back."
This speech was very strange and incomprehensible to Flo; but she likedher companion more and more, and thought she had never met so kind awoman, she looked at her once or twice nearly as nicely as mother usedto look.
But now the business of the day began in earnest.
The Grand Stand was filled; the men with betting lists were rushing withheated faces here and there; the cadgers and tramps, the vendors ofsmall dolls, of pails of water, of fried fish, of coffee and buns, ofices, of fruit and sweeties, the vendors of every conceivable articleunder the sun were doing a roaring trade; and even Flo, aided by herkind companion, made several shillings by her dolls.
The races went on, and at last the great event of the day, the DerbyRace, was to be run.
By this time Flo had sold all her dolls, and stood in the midst of theheaving, swaying mass of people, as eager as anybody else.
An unwonted excitement had taken possession of the little girl, the joyof a fresher, brighter life than she had hitherto ever felt, drove theblood quickly through her languid veins, she stood by her companion'sside, her large bonnet thrown back from her forehead, her cheeksflushed, her eyes quite bright with interest and pleasure.
Perhaps to her alone the beautiful, wonderful sight came without alloy--she had no high stakes at issue, nothing either to gain or to lose.
But when the race was over, and the name of _Galopin_, the winninghorse, was in everybody's mouth, and men, some pale and some flushedwith their losses, turned broken-hearted away; and men, some pale andsome ruddy with their gains, joined in the general cheer; then Flo beganagain to think of and miss her absent companions. Already vast numbersof tramps were returning to London--the kind little woman by her sidehad also expressed a wish to go, but nowhere were Jenks and Dick insight.
They had promised to meet her in the evening, but she could neither askher companion to wait until then, nor wait herself alone in the midst ofthe vast, unruly multitude.
"I will see you safe as far as our roads lie together," said the littlewoman, and Flo, without a word, but no longer with an exultant, joyfulheart, accompanied her.
They walked slowly, keeping close to the other walkers, but still alittle apart, and by themselves. Now and then a good-natured neighbourgave them a lift, but they walked most of the way.
"'As you found 'im whom you loves, mum?" questioned Flo once; but thelittle woman shook her head, and shook it so sorrowfully that
At first Flo did not like this, she would have much preferred to trudgealong, away past hot and dismal London, with only Dick and Jenks forcompany, but after a time she saw the advantage of this arrangement, forshe was unaccustomed to walking, and soon her little feet grew very,very weary, and then the good-natured cadgers and tramps turned outagreeable acquaintances. One woman kindly carried her tray of dolls,and some men with a large barrow of fried fish, taking pity on her wearylittle face, allowed her to have a seat on one corner of their greatbarrow, and in this way she got over many a mile. But the way was verylong, and by the time the weary multitude had reached Epsom town it wasnearly one in the morning.
No rest for them here, however; whether they wished it or not, whetherthey could pay for food and shelter or not, the vigilant police wouldallow no halt in the town, they must move on. So on they moved, untilat last Flo and Dick and Jenks, with many other worn-out tramps, werevery glad to huddle together against the walls of the Grand Stand,which, quiet enough now, would in a few hours blaze with such life andbeauty.
The little girl was in a sound sleep, dreaming confused dreams, in whichJaney's songs, Scamp's face, and the Epsom races were all mingled, whena hand laid on her shoulder roused her from her slumbers.
"Wot is it, Jenks? is it time fur me to begin sellin'?" she exclaimedwith a confused start.
"No, no," said Jenks, "it ain't time fur hages yet. Wait till the folksbegin to come. Why, there's on'y us tramps yere yet."
"Then why did you wake me, Jenks? I was so werry sound asleep."
"Well--see, Flo--I wanted fur to tell yer--you see this is a big place,and we 'as come, you and me and Dick, to do a trade yere, and wot I sesis this, as we mustn't keep together, we mustn't on no 'count keeptogether. You go one way wid the dolls, and a pretty penny _they'll_fetch this blessed day, I hears said; Dick 'ull start in another'rection wid the fusees, and I must be yere, and there, and heverywheres, to keep the gents' boots bright. So good mornin' to yer, Flo;you meet us yere in the evenin' wid a good pocket full, and yere'ssixpence fur yer breakfast," and before Flo had time to open her lipsfrom sheer astonishment, Jenks was gone.
She was alone, alone on Epsom common. With that sea of strange facesround her she was utterly alone.
Very poor children, at least those children who have to fight the battleof life, never cry much. However tender their hearts may be--and manyof them have most tender and loving hearts, God bless them!--there is acertain hardening upper crust which forbids the constant flow of tears.
But something very smarting did come up now to the little girl's eyes.She sat down wearily,--so much fun had she expected roaming about withDick and Jenks, how happy she thought she would have been with thecountry air blowing upon her, the country sun--he never shone like thatin the town--shining on her face. And now she would be afraid--for shewas a timid child--to stir.
Oh, it was wrong of Jenks, though Jenks was only her friend, but howtruly _unkind_ it was of Dick to leave her!
Just then another hand was laid on her shoulder, and a gentle voicesaid--
"Is anything the matter, little child?"
Flo raised her eyes, and a middle-aged woman, with a face as kind as hervoice, and an appearance very much more respectable than the crowdsabout her, stood by her side.
"Are you waiting for your mother, my dear?" said the woman again,finding that Flo only gazed at her, and did not speak. "Or don't youwant to come and get some breakfast?"
"Please, mum," said Flo, suddenly starting to her feet, and rememberingthat she was very hungry, "may I go wid you and 'ave some breakfast? I'ave got sixpence to buy it, mum."
"Come, then," said the woman, "I will take care of you. Here, give meyour dolls," and holding the dolls' tray in one hand, and the childherself by the other, she went across to where a bustling, hungry throngwere surrounding the coffee-stalls.
Flo and her companion were presently served, and then they sat down onthe first quiet spot they could find to enjoy their meal.
"Is you in the small-dolls, or the Aunt Sally, or the clothes'brusher's, or the shoe-blacker's line, mum?" asked Flo, who observedthat her companion was not carrying any goods for sale.
"No, child, I don't do business here--I only come to look on."
"Oh, that's werry fine fur you!" said Flo; "but is it as yer don't findsellin' make? Why, I 'spects to make a penny, and maybe tuppence, onhevery one of these blessed dolls."
"Is this the first time you have been here?" asked the woman.
"Yes, mum."
"And have you come alone?"
"Oh no, mum; I come along o' my brother, a little chap, and a biggerfeller."
"Then you ought to be with them. This is not a safe place for a littlegirl to be all alone in."
"Oh, they doesn't want me," said Flo; "the little chap's in the fuseeline, and the big 'un's in the blackin' line, and they says as it 'udspile the trade fur a small-dolls seller to be along o' them. That's'ow I'm alone, ma'am," and here veritable tears did fill the child'seyes to overflowing.
"Well, I am alone too," said her companion in a kinder tone than ever;"so if you wish to stay with me you may; I can show you the best partsto sell your dolls in."
And this was the beginning of one of the brightest days Flo had ever yetspent. How she did enjoy the breezes on the common now that she had acompanion, how she did gaze at the wonderful, ever-increasing crowd.
She had soon told her story to her new friend; all about Dick andherself, and their mother, and their promise to be honest; something tooabout Scamp, and also about the big feller who she was afraid was athief, but whose name somehow she forgot to mention.
In return her companion told her something of her own story.
"I come year after year out here," she said sadly. "Not that I sellshere, or knows anything of the Derby; but I come looking for one that Ilove--one that has gone like the prodigal astray, but like the prodigalhe'll come back--he'll come back."
This speech was very strange and incomprehensible to Flo; but she likedher companion more and more, and thought she had never met so kind awoman, she looked at her once or twice nearly as nicely as mother usedto look.
But now the business of the day began in earnest.
The Grand Stand was filled; the men with betting lists were rushing withheated faces here and there; the cadgers and tramps, the vendors ofsmall dolls, of pails of water, of fried fish, of coffee and buns, ofices, of fruit and sweeties, the vendors of every conceivable articleunder the sun were doing a roaring trade; and even Flo, aided by herkind companion, made several shillings by her dolls.
The races went on, and at last the great event of the day, the DerbyRace, was to be run.
By this time Flo had sold all her dolls, and stood in the midst of theheaving, swaying mass of people, as eager as anybody else.
An unwonted excitement had taken possession of the little girl, the joyof a fresher, brighter life than she had hitherto ever felt, drove theblood quickly through her languid veins, she stood by her companion'sside, her large bonnet thrown back from her forehead, her cheeksflushed, her eyes quite bright with interest and pleasure.
Perhaps to her alone the beautiful, wonderful sight came without alloy--she had no high stakes at issue, nothing either to gain or to lose.
But when the race was over, and the name of _Galopin_, the winninghorse, was in everybody's mouth, and men, some pale and some flushedwith their losses, turned broken-hearted away; and men, some pale andsome ruddy with their gains, joined in the general cheer; then Flo beganagain to think of and miss her absent companions. Already vast numbersof tramps were returning to London--the kind little woman by her sidehad also expressed a wish to go, but nowhere were Jenks and Dick insight.
"I will see you safe as far as our roads lie together," said the littlewoman, and Flo, without a word, but no longer with an exultant, joyfulheart, accompanied her.
They walked slowly, keeping close to the other walkers, but still alittle apart, and by themselves. Now and then a good-natured neighbourgave them a lift, but they walked most of the way.
"'As you found 'im whom you loves, mum?" questioned Flo once; but thelittle woman shook her head, and shook it so sorrowfully that