A FRIEND IN NEED
The two boys were awake early next for business begins early in Covent Garden, and they soon had to leave the shelter of their barrel, for barrels had to be used for other purposes than to serve as bedrooms for little boys. Besides, Bob felt that he had no time now that he had Willie to provide for.
"Come, Willie," he said, "we must have a wash the fust thing, and then we must earn some money to buy our breakfast with."
"Why, where can we wash?" asked Willie.
"Oh, I know a fust-rate place," answered Rob. "I think it was just made for boys like you and me wot ain't got no 'ome."
Willie placed his hand in his brother's, and off the two boys ran, until they reached Trafalgar Square. Willie shouted with glee at the sight of so much water. Never had he enjoyed himself so much as he did that morning as he splashed about in the water, and never had he felt so clean as he did when he had finished.
"Now," said Bob, "jist you run up and down 'ere as fast as you can; yer'll soon dry."
Willie did as he was told, and soon felt dry and quite hungry; but he was a thoughtful little fellow, and determined to wait bravely until Bob could get something for him to eat.
"Are yer dry, Willie?" asked Bob.
"Should jist think I am," replied Willie; "feel me."
"Come on, then; let's go and see if we can find some work.
Ain't yer 'ungry?"
"Little." said Willie briefly.
Dame Fortune was kind to these poor little waifs this morning, for they had not gone far on their travels when Willie's sharp eye spied something on the ground. Eagerly he ran forward, and picked up a small silver coin, which he held up with high glee for his brother to see.
"Why, Willie," exclaimed Bob, "you are lucky! That's a real silver sixpence. Now you shall have a jolly good breakfast."
"Oh, yes," said Willie, "I am 'ungry. Ain't yer Bob?"
With light hearts the two boys went on, talking eagerly as to how the sixpence should be spent. To these two poor little street arabs it seemed almost unlimited wealth, for never in their short lives had they had so much money to spend. Bob was determined to give Willie a treat, so, without saying where they were going, he led the way to St. James's Park, where they found a man in charge of a stall, with a cow standing near by. With a very important air Bob marched up to the man, and asked for two glasses of milk. The man looked at them rather suspiciously. In their ragged clothes they looked very different from most of the people who came to buy milk.
"Have you any money?" he asked.
"'Course we 'ave," answered Bob proudly. "Show 'im, Willie."
Willie held up his hand and showed the man the shining coin.
"Why, where, did you get that?" asked the man. That's a lot of money for a little chap like you to have."
"I found it," said Willie, "and now we're goin' to 'ave some breakfast, ain't we, Bob?"
The children ate their meal ravenously, the man watching them meanwhile.
"What are you going to do now?" he asked when they had finished.
"Find a crossin', fust thing," answered Bib.
"Well, good luck to you," said the man.
But Bob did not find it very easy work. It had been a dry season, and the crossings were not muddy, so that there was very little to do. One or two people, attracted by Willie's sweet face, gave him a copper, and just before dinner a gentleman asked Bob to hold his horse, for which he gave him threepence; and so they dragged on during the day, but it was very hot, and poor little Willie soon got tired.
"Never mind, Willie," said Bob, "we'll go and sit in the park again presently. Let's stay a little longer."
So Willie sat down on a doorstep and waited while Bob tried to earn a little more. But at last he gave up in despair, and, taking Willie's hand, they turned off into the park. Bob brought some bread-and-cheese from his pocket, and with a drink of water from the fountain, they made their evening meal.
"I wonder if father'll try to find us," said Willie. "You won't ever let me go back, will yer, Bob?"
"Not if I knows it," said Bob. "Yer'll 'ave to be my kid now, Willie; some day yer shall 'ave a broom o' yer own. I'll 'ave to teach yer the bizness."
Willie clapped his hands delightedly.
"That'll be jolly! Then I shall be able to earn some money."
That night, and many succeeding ones, were spent by the children in the open air. Sometimes under archways or on doorsteps, and sometimes in the friendly shelter of the old barrels. While the summer lasted, and the nights were dry and warm, Bob did not mind, he thought it would not hurt Willie, but when the cold weather began it made him very anxious.
"Why don't yer try my place where I sleep?" said another crossing-sweeper to him one day, when he told him his trouble. "The little 'un 'ud keep warm there." And he painted in glowing colours the glories of the cheap lodging-house where he had slept the night before.
"'Ow much?" asked Bob.
"Tuppence a 'ead," was the reply.
So Bob determined if he could possibly earn money that Willie should have a roof over his head that night. By the time the day's work was ended he found he had just sixpence in his pocket. He thought he would spend two of the pennies for their supper and send Willie into the lodging-house alone. Then he would have two pennies left for their breakfast.
But little Willie would not hear of any such arrangement. "No, Bob," he said piteously, "don't make me go away from yer. Let me stay with yer to-night; I don't mind bein' cold."
But to this Bob would not consent. If Willie would not go in alone, why, he must go with him. Perhaps he would get a job early to-morrow, and that would pay for their breakfast. But it was a wretched night the children spent; the place was with men, some of whom crowding round the fire were trying to cook their suppers, while others were quarrelling in different parts of the room. The children lay locked in each other's arms too frightened to move, as the loud, angry voices fell upon their ears, and it was late at night before the noise ceased and they were able to sleep.
They were wakened early in the morning, for some of the men were up and off almost before daybreak; and Bob thought he had better be on the move too, for money must be earned somehow before Willie could have his breakfast.
They were just about to start when they heard the voice of the landlady calling to them. She had noticed how pinched and starved they looked when they came in the night before and felt sorry for them.
"Come in here, little 'uns," she said, putting her head out of the room door. "Bless me, you look famished. Got any breakfast?"
"No," said Bob; "we was going to see if we could earn some money, so's we could buy some."
"Where's yer mother?" she asked shortly.
"She's been dead a long while," answered Bob.
"Yes," chimed in Willie. "Mother's dead, and we've runned away from father. He beat us."
"Poor little chap!" said the woman, looking at the younger boy. And then she made him sit by the fire, while she poured out two cups of steaming hot coffee. It was very weak, hardly more than coloured water, but to the little waifs it was the most delicious thing they had tasted for months, and as they drank their coffee and ate their bread and butter, the woman's heart warmed towards them. She smiled several times at Willie's chatter, as he told of the life on the streets.
"Soon's we can get enuf money," he said, "Bob'll buy me a broom, then I'll 'elp."
"Wouldn't you like to help now?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, "but brooms cost a lot o' money."
"So they do," said the woman. "Besides, you're not big enough yet, but you could sell some matches, couldn't you? See, I'll lend you this sixpence to get some with," and then she told Bob the best place to buy them, and how his little brother was to sell them.
Willie's eyes gleamed with delight, but all he could say was, "Oh, Bob!"
The little fellow proved a splendid salesman. However ragged his clothes might be, his face was always clean, for the boys never missed their morning wash in Trafalgar Square, and he found several customers, who were attracted by his bright face and cheery voice as he called out "Box o' lights, sir! box o' lights!" and his happiness reached its height when he was able to put into Bob's hand quite a heap of pennies, the result of his morning's efforts.
When the evening came they made their way back to the lodging-house, buying, on their way, half a loaf and some cheese to take in for their supper. Bob had a good day himself so that he had managed to save threepence towards paying back the sixpence their kind friend had lent them in the morning, and it was with a face flushed with pride that he offered it to her.
"No, laddie," she said; "wait until you can afford it better."
"Please take it," he urged. "We've done well to-day, Willie and me."
So Mrs. Blair took the money, but she insisted on their lying down in a corner of her room, instead of going into the common kitchen.
"And you must come every night," she said. "I've been thinking to-day that if I had a little boy of my own I should like one with a face like Willie's. Bless him!" And the kind woman kissed the child tenderly.
"That was nice," said the child. "Nobody ever did that afore."
So the two children were always sure of a shelter for the night. Sometimes they were gone in the morning before Mrs. Blair was about, but if not, she always put fresh water into her tea or coffee-pot and gave them a hot drink. She was a very poor woman herself and it was as much as she could do for the little ones. But she did it gladly.