Dickory Dock | Page 6

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.'
'Of course, we won't go back,' said Flossie. 'The stale bread's 'licious, and I'm so hungry. O Peter, do look! Dickory is stretching herself, and rubbing her little fat hands into her eyes; and I know she's going to wake, and I'm afraid she'll cry.'
'Give her to me,' said Peter, with the air of a practised nurse. 'I'll hold her, and you can feed me while I'm doing so, Flossy.'
But notwithstanding all Peter's efforts, notwithstanding his singing, and even shouting, for the baby's benefit, notwithstanding the admiring cheers of a little street mob that collected round him, the baby cried, not a loud cry, but a weak, broken-hearted wail. The fact was, the indifferent milk Flossy had fed her with had made her ill, and her little frame was already sadly chilled by the damp shawl which she wore about her. Poor Dickory scarcely ever got any air or exercise, and in consequence was very susceptible to cold.
'She is sneezing,' said Flossy. 'Oh the poor, poor darling! Peter, I think we'd better see about our night's lodging soon; it doesn't agree with Dickory to keep her out so long.'
'We'll go at once,' said Peter, rising to his feet. 'There's another black cloud coming up, and there'll be a shower again before long. We'll get a nice room for us four, and then we'll be as happy as possible.'
Accordingly the little party again moved forward, and whenever Peter or Flossy saw a card up in a window they stopped and rang the house-bell, and inquired for lodgings for themselves and their baby. Of course, they were repulsed in all kinds of ways--some people merely laughing, and shutting the door in their faces; some scolding them, and calling them tiresome, impertinent little brats; and some even threatening to tell the police about them; but no one ever hinted at the possibility of taking them in. Presently they left the more respectable streets, and wandered into very poor quarters. Here, doubtless, they could have found accommodation were they able to pay for it, but everybody laughed at Peter's pennies, and no one dreamt of offering them a shelter. Then the rain which had threatened came down, and baby was again wet through, and now she looked ill, as well as fretful, and refused some fresh milk which Flossy bought for her. She was not the least like the bright little Dickory who used to laugh and show her dimples in the old attic-nursery at home.
'Look here,' said Peter, 'what are we to do? 'T will be night soon, and we haven't found no hiding-place for Dickory, and no one will take us in.'
'Baby is not at all well, either,' said Flossy; 'her head is quite hot, like fire, when I touch it.'
'What are we to do?' asked Peter. 'We can't get home, but it seems to me, Floss, that this is worse for poor Dickory than the workhouse.'
'I'll