CHAPTER III.
TOM JONES' TRICK.
The neighbors were full of suggestions to Billy at this crisis of his fate.
It was ascertained beyond all doubt that Mrs. Andersen would be six weeks,if not two months, away; and this being the case, the neighbors one and alldeclared roundly that there was nothing whatever for Sarah Ann but tobecome a workhouse baby. One of them would carry her to the house the verynext morning, and of course she would be admitted without a moment'sdifficulty, and there would be an end of her.
Billy might manage to earn a precarious living by running messages, byopening cab-doors, and by the thousand-and-one things an active boy couldundertake, and so he might eke out a livelihood till his mother came back;but there was no hope whatever for Sarah Ann--there was no loophole for herbut the workhouse.
To these admonitions on the part of his friendly neighbors, Billy respondedin a manner peculiar to himself. First of all, he raised two blue and veryinnocent eyes, and let them rest slowly and thoughtfully on each loquaciousspeaker's face; then he suddenly and without the slightest warning winkedone of the said eyes in a manner that was so knowing as to be almostwicked, and then without the slightest word or comment he dashed into hisattic and locked the door on himself and Sarah Ann.
"Sarah Ann, darling," he said, placing the baby on the floor and kneelingdown a few paces from her, "will yer go to the workhouse, or will yer staywith yer h'own Billy?"
Sarah Ann's response to this was to wriggle as fast as possible up to heraffectionate nurse, and rub her little dirty face against his equally dirtytrousers.
"That's settled, then," said Billy; "yer has chosen, Sarah Ann, and yerain't one as could ever abear contradictions, so we 'as got to see how wetwo can live."
This was a problem not so easily managed, for the neighbors took offensewith Billy not following their advice, and it was almost impossible for himto leave Sarah Ann long at home by herself. True to this terrible infant'scharacter, she now refused to sleep by day, as she had hitherto done, thuscutting off poor Billy's last loophole of earning his bread and her ownwith any comfort.
Billy had two reasons which made it almost impossible for him to leave thebaby in the attic; the first was his fear that Tom Jones, who still hovereddangerously about, might find her and carry her off; the second was theundoubted fact that if Sarah Ann was left to enjoy her own solitarycompany, she would undoubtedly scream herself into fits and the neighborsinto distraction.
There was nothing whatever for it but for Billy to carry the baby with himwhen he went in search of their daily bread.
Poor little brave man, he had certainly a hard time during those next twomonths, and except for the undoubted fact that he and the baby were two ofthe sparrows whom our Father feeds, they both must have starved; butperhaps owing to a certain look in Billy's eyes, which were as blue as bluecould be, in the midst of his freckled face, and also, perhaps, to acertain pathetic turn which the baby's ugliness had now assumed, the twoalways managed to secure attention.
With attention, came invariably a few pence--fourpence one day--sixpenceand even eightpence another. The greater portion of the food thus obtainedwas given to Sarah Ann, but neither of the two quite starved. Billy countedand counted and counted the days until his mother would be home again; andas, fortunately for him, Mrs. Andersen had paid the rent of their atticsome weeks in advance, the children still had a shelter at night.
All went tolerably well with the little pair until a certain bitter day inthe beginning of November. Billy was very hopeful on the morning of thatday, for his mother's time of captivity in the hospital had nearly expired,and soon now she would be back to take the burden of responsibility off hisyoung shoulders.
Sarah Ann had hitherto escaped cold; indeed, her life in the open airseemed to agree with her, and she slept better at nights, and was reallybecoming quite a nice tempered baby.
Billy used to look at her with the most old fatherly admiration, andassured her that she was such a darling duck of a cherub that he couldalmost eat her up.
No, Sarah Ann had never taken cold, but Billy felt a certain amount ofuneasiness on this particular morning, which was as sleety, as gusty, asaltogether melancholy a day as ever dawned on the great London world.
There was no help for it, however, the daily bread must be found; and heand the baby must face the elements. He wrapped an old woolen comforterseveral times round Sarah Ann's throat, and beneath the comforter secureda very thin and worn Paisley shawl of his mother's, and then buttoning uphis own ragged jacket, and shuffling along in his large and untidy boots,he set forth. Whether it was the insufficient food he had lately partakenof or that the baby was really growing very heavy, poor Billy almoststaggered to-day under Sarah Ann's weight. He found himself obliged to leanfor support against a pillar box, and then he discovered to his distressthat the baby began to sneeze, that her tiny face was blue, and that hersolemn black eyes had quite a weary and tearful look.
"She's a-catchin' cold, the blessed, blessed babby," exclaimed poor Billy;"oh, Sairey Ann, darlin', don't you go and take the brownchitis, and breakthe heart of your h'own Billy. Oh! lady, lady, give us a 'ap'enny, or apenny. Give us a copper, please, kind lady."
The lady so aprostrophized was good-natured enough to bestow a few pence onthe starved-looking children, and after a certain miserable fashion themorning passed away.
This was, however, Billy's only money success, and he was just making uphis mind to go home, and to prefer starvation in his attic to running thefeeble chance of securing any more charities.
Sarah Ann still continued to sneeze and her eyes still looked watery, andBilly was sorrowfully giving up his hope of receiving any more coppers,when he came face to face with his old adversary and tormentor, Tom Jones.
In the anxiety of these latter few weeks, Billy had lost his old fear ofTom, and he was now so spent and exhausted that he greeted him with almostpleasure.
"Oh! Tom, do hold the babby just for one minute, just for me to get a weebit of breath. I'm all blown like, and I'm afeard as Sarah Ann 'as takencold; jest hold her for one minute--will yer?"
Tom, who was looking rather white and shaken himself, just glanced intoBilly's face, and some gibing words, which were on the tip of his tongue,were restrained.
"Why, yer does look bad, Billy Andersen," he said, and then, withoutanother word, he lifted the baby out of the little lad's trembling arms,and held her in an awkward but not altogether untender fashion.
"Look you here, Billy," he said, "ef yer likes to round quick this 'erecorner, there are two cabs coming up to a house as I passed, and they aresure to want a boy to help in with the boxes, and you maybe earn sixpenceor a bob; run round this yere minute--quick, Billy, quick."
"I'd like to, awful well," said Billy, "and the run will warm me, andwouldn't the bob be fine--but, oh! Tom, will yer hold Sairey Ann? and willyer promise not to run away with her? will yer promise sure and faithful,Tom?"
"What in the world should I do that for?" said Tom. "What good would yerSairey Ann be to me? My h'eyes--I has work enough to get my h'own victuals.There, Billy, I'll not deprive you of the babby; you jest run round thecorner, or yer'll lose the chance. There, Billy, be quick; you'll findSairey Ann safe enough when yer comes back."
The poor thin and cold baby gave a little cry as Billy ran off, but thechance was too good for him to lose; and, after all, what earthly use couldTom have with Sairey Ann?