Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished | Page 9

to do it a-purpose, you
old grampus," retorted Bobby, intending the remark to be taken as a
gentle yet affectionate reproof. "A doctor's bin an' set my leg,"
continued the boy, "an' made it as stiff as a poker wi' what 'e calls

splints. He says I won't be able to go about for ever so many weeks."
"An' who's to feed you, I wonder, doorin' them weeks? An' who sent
for the doctor? Was it him as supplied the fire an' candle to-night?"
"No, father, it was me," answered Hetty, who was engaged in stirring
something in a small saucepan, the loose handle of which was attached
to its battered body by only one rivet; the other rivet had given way on
an occasion when Ned Frog sent it flying through the doorway after his
retreating wife. "You see I was paid my wages to-night, so I could
afford it, as well as to buy some coal and a candle, for the doctor said
Bobby must be kept warm."
"Afford it!" exclaimed Ned, in rising wrath, "how can 'ee say you can
afford it w'en I 'aven't had enough grog to half screw me, an' not a
brown left. Did the doctor ask a fee?"
"No, father, I offered him one, but he wouldn't take it."
"Ah--very good on 'im! I wonder them fellows has the cheek to ask fees
for on'y givin' advice. W'y, I'd give advice myself all day long at a
penny an hour, an' think myself well off too if I got that--better off than
them as got the advice anyhow. What are you sittin' starin' at an' sulkin'
there for?"
This last remark was addressed gruffly to Mrs Frog, who, during the
previous conversation, had seated herself on a low three-legged stool,
and, clasping her hands over her knees, gazed at the dirty blank walls in
blanker despair.
The poor woman realised the situation better than her drunken husband
did. As a bird-fancier he contributed little, almost nothing, to the
general fund on which this family subsisted. He was a huge, powerful
fellow, and had various methods of obtaining money--some obvious
and others mysterious--but nearly all his earnings went to the
gin-palace, for Ned was a man of might, and could stand an enormous
quantity of drink. Hetty, who worked, perhaps we should say slaved,
for a firm which paid her one shilling a week, could not manage to find

food for them all. Mrs Frog herself with her infant to care for, had
found it hard work at any time to earn a few pence, and now Bobby's
active little limbs were reduced to inaction, converting him into a
consumer instead of a producer. In short, the glaring fact that the family
expenses would be increased while the family income was diminished,
stared Mrs Frog as blankly in the face as she stared at the dirty blank
wall.
And her case was worse, even, than people in better circumstances
might imagine, for the family lived so literally from hand to mouth that
there was no time even to think when a difficulty arose or disaster
befell. They rented their room from a man who styled it a furnished
apartment, in virtue of a rickety table, a broken chair, a worn-out sheet
or two, a dilapidated counterpane, four ragged blankets, and the infirm
saucepan before mentioned, besides a few articles of cracked or broken
crockery. For this accommodation the landlord charged ninepence per
day, which sum had to be paid every night before the family was
allowed to retire to rest! In the event of failure to pay they would have
been turned out into the street at once, and the door padlocked. Thus
the necessity for a constant, though small, supply of cash became
urgent, and the consequent instability of "home" very depressing.
To preserve his goods from the pawnbroker, and prevent a moonlight
flitting, this landlord had printed on his sheets the words "stolen from
---" and on the blankets and counterpane were stamped the words "stop
thief!"
Mrs Frog made no reply to her husband's gruff question, which induced
the man to seize an empty bottle, as being the best way of rousing her
attention.
"Come, you let mother alone, dad," suggested Bobby, "she ain't
a-aggrawatin' of you just now."
"Why, mother," exclaimed Hetty, who was so busy with Bobby's
supper, and, withal, so accustomed to the woman's looks of hopeless
misery that she had failed to observe anything unusual until her
attention was thus called to her, "what ever have you done with the

baby?"
"Ah--you may well ask that," growled Ned.
Even the boy seemed to forget his pain for a moment as he now
observed, anxiously, that his mother had not the usual bundle on her
breast.
"The baby's gone!" she