Читать книгу Scamp and I: A Story of City By-Ways - Meade L. T. - Страница 5

But Flo knew even better than her little brother that it would be easier for Dick to steal the second time than the first.

Very few boys and girls she had ever heard of, none indeed, had left off prigging from stalls, and snatching from bakers’ shops, and thrusting their hands into old gentlemen’s pockets, when once they had begun to do so.

Not punishment, not even prison, could break them. They had their time of confinement, and then out they came, with more thieving propensities than ever.

Her mother had told her stories upon stories of what these children, who looked some of them so innocent, and began in this small way, had ended with – penal servitude for life – sometimes even the gallows.

She had made her hair stand on end with frightful accounts of their last days 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 over their 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 be afraid, 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 never rough with her, but, on the contrary, had not only helped to keep the pot 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 be thieves, the sooner they parted company the better.

She knew well that Dick would never have courage to say to Jenks what he ought to say, she knew that this task must be hers.

Accordingly, in the first light of the summer morning, though all they saw of it in the cellar was a slanting ray which came down through the hole in the pavement, when in that early light Jenks stumbled to his feet, and running his fingers through his shaggy hair by way of toilet, ran up the ladder, Flo, rising softly, for fear of waking Dick, followed him.

“Jenks,” she said, laying her hand timidly on his coat-sleeve, “I wants fur to speak to you.”

Jenks turned round with merry eyes.

“I’m yer ’umble servant, my Lady, the Hearl’s wife,” he said, with a mock bow to Flo; but then noticing her white little anxious face, he changed 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 coffee at 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 this yere cellar, Jenks.”

Jenks was about to ask why, but he changed his mind and resumed his mocking tone.

“My Lady, you is alwis werry perlite – you is not one of them fine dames as welwet, and silk, and feathers maks too ’igh and mighty to speak to a chap. Might a poor and ’umble feller ax you then to be so werry obligin’ 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’t never 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 be perlite to you, Jenks. I likes you, Jenks, and now I’m goin’ to tell you why.”

“Oh! my heyes,” said Jenks, “that’s an honour. Oh! my stars! can I abear so big an honour? ’Old me, Flo, I feels kind of top ’eavy. Now then, break it heasy, Flo.”

“I never know’d as yer trade was that of a thief, Jenks,” quietly continued the little girl. “I thought as it wor a real nice trade as me and 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 – it ain’t wrong fur you, Jenks – you ’adn’t never a mother, as telled you to keep 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 dare say 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 was alwis honest, and, no, not ef we was starvin’ would prig anythink, and that mother lay a dyin’, and she axed yer werry soft and lovin’ to keep honest, and never, no never to steal nothink, and you promised yer mother ’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 about mothers, do. Wot does I know of such? Say wot yer ’as to say, as I must be gone.”

“I wants you not to come back no more, dear Jenks, and never, never to speak 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 reared hup so tender. But why does you say as I am a thief, Flo – it wor Dick tuk 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’ and dressin’. Tell yer ’ee’d make a real stunnin’ thief arter a bit. But I’ll not teach ’im nothink, not I. No, Flo,” (this gravely), “I’ll promise yer this, and yere’s my ’and on it, ef I sees ’im touch so much as a brass farthing, I’ll give ’im a whackin’ as ’ull soon teach ’im to be 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 to my work – wot ain’t that of a thief,” and snapping his fingers disdainfully, Jenks disappeared.

Flo stood for a moment, her hand over her eyes, looking up the hot street. Her mission she felt was only half accomplished, but it was some consolation to know, that the next time Dick acted the part of a thief, his companion, instead of loading him with praise, would bestow on him instead a far-sounding whacking.

Flo did not mind how hard it was, if only it saved her brother from following in the steps of those boys of whom her mother had so often told her.