Stephen Archer and Other Tales by George MacDonald (best novels for students txt) 📖

dropping the sovereign, and stooping to find it ). Golly! it
is our Mattie!

Wat . Shall you know her again?

Bill . Any boy as wasn't a hass would know his own grandmother by them spots. Besides, I remember sich a gal addressin' of me this mornin'. If you say her it was, I'll detect her for ye.

Wat . There's a good boy! What's your name?

Bill . Timothy, sir.

Wat . What else?

Bill . Never had no other-leastways as I knows on.

Wat . Well, Timothy-there's the other sov.-and it's yours the moment you take me to her. Look at it.

Bill . My eye!-Is she a square Moll, sir?

Wat . What do you mean by that?

Bill . Green you are, to be sure!-She ain't one as steals, or-

Wat . Not she. She's a sempstress-a needlewoman, or something of the sort.

Bill . And where shall I find you , sir?

Wat . Let me see:-to-morrow night-on the steps of St. Martin's Church-ten o'clock.

Bill . But if I don't find her? It may be a week-or a month-or-

Wat . Come whether you find her or not, and let me know.

Bill . All serene, sir! There you are, sir! Brush your trousers, sir?

Wat . No; leave 'em.-Don't forget now.

Bill . Honour bright, sir! Not if I knows it, sir!

Wat . There's that other skid, you know.

Bill . All right, sir! Anything more, sir?

Wat . Damn your impudence! Get along.

Exit . BILL watches him into MRS. CLIFFORD'S.

Bill . Now by all the 'ungry gums of Arabiar, 'ere's a swell arter our Mattie!-A right rig'lar swell! I knows 'em-soverings an' red socks. What's come to our Mattie? 'Ere's Daddy Longlegs arter her, vith his penny and his blessin'! an' 'ere's this 'ere mighty swell vith his soverings-an' his red socks! An' she's 'ungry, poor gal!-This 'ere yellow-boy?-I 'ain't got no faith in swells-no more 'n in Daddy Longlegses-I 'ain't!-S'posin' he wants to marry her?-Not if I knows it. He ain't half good 'nough for her . Too many quids-goin' a flingin' on 'em about like buttons! He's been a crackin' o' cribs- he has. I ain't a goin' to interduce our Mattie to no sich blokes as him. No fathers or lovyers for me-says I!-But this here pebble o' Paradise!-What's to be done wi' the cherub? I can't tell her a lie about it, an' who'll break it up for a cove like me, lookin' jes' as if I'd been an' tarred myself and crep' through a rag-bag! They'd jug me. An' what 'ud Mattie say then? I wish I 'adn't 'a' touched it. I'm blowed if I don't toss it over a bridge!-Then the gent 'ain't got the weight on his dunop out o' me. O Lord! what shall I do with it? I wish I'd skied it in his face! I don't believe it's a good un; I don't! ( Bites it .) It do taste wery nasty. It's nothin' better 'n a gilt fardin'! Jes' what a cove might look for from sich a swell! ( Goes to a street lamp and examines it .) Lor! there's a bobby! ( Exit. Re-enter to the lamp .) I wish the gen'leman 'ad guv me a penny. I can't do nothin' wi' this 'ere quid. Vere am I to put it? I 'ain't got no pocket, an' if I was to stow it in my 'tato-trap, I couldn't wag my red rag-an' Mother Madge 'ud soon have me by the chops. Nor I've got noveres to plant it.-O Lor! it's all I've got, an' Madge lets nobody go to bed without the tuppence. It's all up with Bill- for the night!-Where's the odds!-there's a first-class hotel by the river-The Adelphi Arches, they calls it-where they'll take me in fast enough, and I can go to sleep with it in my cheek. Coves is past talkin' to you there. Nobody as sees me in that 'ere 'aunt of luxury, 'ill take me for a millionaire vith a skid in his mouth. 'Tain't a bit cold to-night neither ( going ).-Vy do they say a aunt of luxury? I s'pose acause she's wife to my uncle. Exit .

Slow music. The night passes. A policeman crosses twice . THOMAS
crosses between. Dawn .

Re-enter BILL.

Bill . I'm hanged if this here blasted quid ain't a burnin' of me like a red-hot fardin'! I'm blest if I've slep' more 'n half the night. I woke up oncet, with it a slippin' down red lane. I wish I had swallered it. Then nobody 'd 'a' ast me vere I got it. I don't wonder as rich coves turn out sich a bad lot. I believe the devil's in this 'ere!

Knocks at MRS. CLIFFORD'S door. JAMES opens. Is shutting it
again . BILL shoves in his stool .

Bill . Hillo, Blazes! where's your manners? Is that the way you behaves to callers on your gov'nor's business?

James (half opening the door ). Get about your own business, you imperent boy!

Bill . I'm about it now, young man. I wants to see your gov'nor.

James . You 've got business with him , have you, eh?

Bill . Amazin' precoxity! You've hit it! I have got business with him , Door-post-not in the wery smallest with you , Door-post!-essep' the knife-boy's been and neglected of your feet-bags this mornin'. (JAMES
would slam the door . BILL shoves in his stool .) Don't you try that 'ere little game again, young man! for if I loses my temper and takes to hollerin', you'll wish yourself farther.

James . A humbug you are! I 'ain't got no gov'nor, boy. The master as belongs to me is a mis'ess.

Bill . Then that 'ere gen'lemen as comes an' goes, ain't your master-eh?

James . What gen'leman, stoopid?

Bill . Oh! it don't matter.

James . What have-you-got to say to him ?

Bill . Some'at pickled: it'll keep.

James . I'll give him a message, if you like.

Bill . Well, you may tell him the bargain's hoff, and if he wants his money, it's a waitin' of him round the corner.

James . You little blackguard! Do you suppose a gen'leman's a goin' to deliver sich a message as that! Be off, you himp! ( Makes a dart at him .)

Bill ( dodging him ). How d'e do, Clumsy? Don't touch me; I ain't nice. Why, what was you made for, Parrot? Is them calves your own rearin' now? Is that a quid or a fardin? Have a shot, now, Shins.

James . None o' your imperence, young blackie! 'And me over the money, and I'll give it to the gen'leman.

Bill . Do you see anything peticlar green in my eye, Rainbow?

JAMES makes a rush . BILL gets down before him . JAMES tumbles
over him . BILL blacks his face with his brush .

Bill ( running a little way ). Ha! ha! ha! Bill Shoeblack-his mark! Who's blackie now? You owes me a penny-twopence-'twor sich a ugly job! Ain't shiny? I'll come back and shine ye for another penny. Good mornin', Jim Crow! Take my adwice, and don't on no account apply your winegar afore you've opened your hoyster. Likeways: Butter don't melt on a cold tater. Exit .

Exit JAMES into the house, banging the door .

Enter WATERFIELD, followed by BILL.

Bill . Please, sir, I been a watchin' for you.

Wat . Go to the devil!

Bill . I'd rayther not. So there's your suv'ring!

Wat . Go along. Meet me where I told you.

Bill . I won't. There's yer skid.

Wat . Be off, or I'll give you in charge. Hey! Policeman! Exit .

Bill . Well, I'm blowed! This quid '11 be the hangin' o' me! Damn you ! ( Throws it fiercely on the ground and stamps on it .) Serves me right for chaffin' the old un! He didn't look a bad sort- for a gov'nor.-Now I reflexes, I heerd Mattie spoony on some father or other, afore. O Lord! I'll get Jim and Jack to help me look out for him. ( Enter THOMAS.) Lor' ha' mussy!-talk o' the old un!-I'm wery peticlar glad as I found you, daddy. I been a lookin' for ye-leastways I was a goin' to look for ye this wery moment as you turns up. I chaffed you like a zorologicle monkey yesterday, daddy, an' I'm wery sorry. But you see fathers ain't nice i' this 'ere part o' the continent. ( Enter JAMES, in plain clothes, watching them .) They ain't no good nohow to nobody. If I wos a husband and a father, I don't know as how I should be A One, myself. P'r'aps I might think it wur my turn to break arms and legs. I knowed more 'n one father as did. It's no wonder the boys is a plaguy lot, daddy.

Tho. Goo away, boy. Dosto yer, aw've seen so mich wickedness sin' aw coom to Lon'on. that aw dunnot knaw whether to breighk thi yed, or to goo wi' tho? There be thieves and there be robbers.

Bill . Never fear, daddy. You ain't worth robbin' of, I don't think.

Tho. How dosto knaw that? Aw've moore 'n I want to lose abeawt mo.

Bill . Then Mattie 'ill have som'at to eat-will she, daddy?

Tho. Som'at to eight, boy! Be mo Mattie hungry-dun yo think?

Bill . Many and many's the time, daddy.

Tho. Yigh-afore her dinner!

Bill . And after it too, daddy.

Tho. O Lord!-And what does hoo do when hoo 's hungry?

Bill . Grins and bears it. Come and see her, daddy?

Tho. O Lord! Mo Mattie, an' nothin' to eight! Goo on, boy. Aw'm beawn to follow yo. Tak mo wheer yo like. Aw'll goo.

Bill . Come along then, daddy.

James (collaring him ). Hullo, young un! You're the rascal as stole the suvering: I saw you!

Bill . Dunno what you're up to. I never stole nothink.

James . Oh no! of course not! What's that in yer fist now? ( Catches BILL'S hand, and forces it open .) There!

BILL drops his stool on JAMES'S foot, throws up the coin, catches
it with his other hand, and puts it in his mouth .

Tho. Theighur! Theighur! The like ov that! Aw're agooin wi'