“I don’t know,” said the harassed Cyril; “it’s just a vote, that’s all! They don’t do anything particular with it.”
“I see,” said the Queen; “a sort of plaything. Well, I wish that all these slaves may have in their hands this moment their fill of their favourite meat and drink.”
Instantly all the people in the Mile End Road, and in all the other streets where poor people live, found their hands full of things to eat and drink. From the cab window could be seen persons carrying every kind of food, and bottles and cans as well. Roast meat, fowls, red lobsters, great yellowy crabs, fried fish, boiled pork, beef-steak puddings, baked onions, mutton pies; most of the young people had oranges and sweets and cake. It made an enormous change in the look of the Mile End Road—brightened it up, so to speak, and brightened up, more than you can possibly imagine, the faces of the people.
“Makes a difference, doesn’t it?” said the Queen.
“That’s the best wish you’ve had yet,” said Jane with cordial approval.
Just by the Bank the cabman stopped.
“I ain’t agoin’ to drive you no further,” he said. “Out you gets.”
They got out rather unwillingly.
“I wants my tea,” he said; and they saw that on the box of the cab was a mound of cabbage, with pork chops and apple sauce, a duck, and a spotted currant pudding. Also a large can.
“You pay me my fare,” he said threateningly, and looked down at the mound, muttering again about his tea.