Dickory Dock | Page 5

workhouse, and that
she has got till to-morrow morning to take baby away.'
'No, she hasn't,' said Peter; 'we'll take her away first, you and me,
Flossy--you and me and Snip-snap--we'll take our little baby away, and
we'll hide her. Dickory shall never go to no workhouse!'
Here Dickory looked up again at Peter, who looked down at her and
kissed her, and two tears splashed from his eyes on her little face.
'Oh, what a dear baby she is!' said Flossy. 'Yes, Peter, we'll run away,
and we'll take Dickory. Where shall we take her to, Peter?'
'Oh, I don't know,' said Peter. 'We'll get her out of this, that's the first
thing. How much money have you got, Flossy?'
'A crooked halfpenny,' said Flossy, in a decided voice.
Peter sighed. He was older than Flossy, and he knew that a crooked
halfpenny did not represent a large capital.
'I have got sixpence,' he said; 'that'll buy milk for her. We'll manage
quite well, Floss. When mother goes out with her market-basket, we'll

slip downstairs with Dickory, and well take her away, and we'll hide
her somewhere. She shan't go to no workhouse, the darling pet!'
'No, that she shan't, the dear!' said Flossy. 'It's a lovely plan, Peter, and
I'll just go and watch on the top of the stairs for mother to go out with
the old market-basket.'
'We'd better take a bag with us,' said Peter. 'The bag will come in very
handy; it will hold baby's milk when we buy it, and some bread for you
and me; for we may have to walk a long way before we find a nice
hiding- place for Dickory.'
Children seldom take long in carrying out their resolutions, and Mrs
Franklin, puzzled and anxious, and with no real intention of sending the
poor baby to the workhouse, had not long turned the corner of the street
before the hall door of the rambling old house was eagerly and
nervously opened, and a funny little quartette issued forth. Dickory did
not often get the air, and she enjoyed herself very much, sitting well up
in Peter's arms, and wrapped up, head and all, in an old tartan shawl.
Flossy, holding the bag, walked by her brother's side, and Snip-snap
behaved in his usual erratic fashion, now running before, now lingering
behind, now stopping to exchange a greeting with a fellow-dog, or to
sniff with watering jaws and wistful eyes at a butcher's shop, but
always returning faithfully to his charge, and always raising an
inquiring face to see if Dickory was quite comfortable. She was
thoroughly so, and when she crowed, and laughed, and chuckled,
Flossy wondered they had never thought of taking her out before. The
sun was shining and the day was bright and warm, with the promise of
spring in it, and the two children were highly delighted with their
scheme, and not a bit afraid of the result. The only thing which had at
all alarmed them was the fear that Mrs Franklin or Martha might find
out their little plan before they had time to carry it into effect.
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