Me and Nobbles

by Amy Le Feuvre

Of course a policeman immediately appeared on the scene and was very angry.

But when the boy returned to shore and presented Nobbles to his little master, Margot protested against the hard words that were hurled at the rescuer.

'It isn't many boys would get a wetting for a stick, so don't scold him, poor boy! I'm sure Master Bobby is ever so grateful to him, for he treasures that bit of stick like nothing else. What's your name, my lad, and where do you live?'

'"Curly," they calls me, lidy, otherwise John Hart, I lives on my wits most of the diy.'

'He's all wet,' said True, looking at the boy pitifully; 'how will he get dry, Margot; he will catch cold.'

Bobby was so occupied in drying Nobbles with his pocket-handkerchief that he hardly thanked the boy; now he looked up, and was quite as distressed as True.

'He must be dried, Margot; let's take him home; it was so very good of him.'

Margot hurriedly produced her big purse and handed the boy one shilling. He stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned at her.

'I ain't goin' to take a bob for that!' he said.

Margot put back her shilling, the policeman moved away.