PAGE 6
Dickory Dock
by
Having succeeded in getting quite away with the baby, they considered their difficulties at an end. Peter was old enough to know that a crooked halfpenny did not mean much, considered as a provision for three human beings and a dog; but he was still sufficiently young to have perfect confidence in the capabilities of sixpence for meeting the demands of the hour. As they walked along, Flossy, Dickory, and Snip-snap were all very happy, and Peter too was happy, although his arms ached sadly. But, alas! the paths of the poor little adventurers were not to be without thorns.
The time was April, and an April shower first damped the ardour of the travellers–the poor baby’s shawl was wet through, and she began to cry pitifully with hunger and want of sleep.
‘She must want her milk,’ said Peter; ‘there, Dickory, there’s a darling, now go to sleep like the dear baby you are.’
‘You know, Peter, she won’t go to sleep without her milk,’ said Flossy. ‘I’ll run across to that milk-shop and buy some. How much milk shall I get, Peter?’
‘A ha’p’orth,’ said Peter; ‘you get a ha’p’orth, Flossy, and we’ll sit down on the step of this empty house and feed the baby, and eat up our crusts ourselves.’
A bottle to hold the milk was to be found in Flossy’s bag, and accordingly in a short time Dickory had a meal; not quite what she was accustomed to, but sufficient to soothe her off into a slumber in which she forgot the discomfort of her damp clothes and all her other baby tribulations.
‘Flossy,’ said Peter, ‘we have gone a long way from home now, and baby is asleep and resting nicely on my knee; my arm won’t ache a bit when she wakes, and I’ll be able to carry her a splendid long way. We’ll have to think of making up our plans, Floss–we’ll have to find some place where we can all sleep comfortably to-night.’
‘Well, we’ve got sixpence,’ said Flossy, ‘that’s lots and lots of money; but the night is a long way off, Peter, and I’m so hungry. I’ve eaten up all the crusts that you and Snip-snap left for me, but I’m still as hungry as possible. Mightn’t I spend a halfpenny or so of our sixpence in getting a good dinner for you and me and Snip-snap?’
Peter put his hand to his brow, and began to reflect.
‘I don’t think so, Floss,’ he said, ‘for I’m afraid you don’t understand marketing–it’s best for me to go, for I’m quite old, and I know the way mother talks to the baker’s man and the milkman when they come to the door. I must be sharp with them, Floss; that’s what I must be, and I don’t think you could be; so you had better hold the baby while I fetch our dinner. Oh dear, what a good thing it is I have got sixpence!’
The baby, being very sound asleep, was transferred to Flossy’s arms without waking, Snip-snap was left in charge of the two, and Peter, who knew very little more of London and London life than his little sister, started off manfully to the eating-house round the corner. He had gone away with a bright face, but he returned in a very short time with one singularly depressed.
‘Here’s a bit of stale bread for each of us,’ he said, ‘and I had to give two halfpennies for that. I did see such a nice piece of beef and of pudding, and I ordered some for you and me and Snip-snap, but the woman said all that much would cost three sixpences, so then I had to say I wouldn’t have it; and I took the stale bread, and she was very cross. O Floss, I hope I’m right about sixpence; I hope it will buy a bed for baby, and milk and food for us all, for I’m thinking we had much better none of us go back to-night.’