Forgotten Tales of Long Ago

by E. V. Lucas

'La, child!' said she, 'what good can a bit of dirty pie-crust do you? I am sure your mistress would not use it, and when I have washed off the mud it will make me a little dumpling.'

'Pray give it me back,' said I. 'Oh dear! what shall I do? I shall be so beat!'

'Beat!' repeated a man, who at that moment came up and lifted me over the gutter on to the pavement, 'you will be killed. If I was in your place, I would run away. Depend upon it, if you go back, Mother Smith would beat you to death.'

This man lived in our street, and knew the Smiths very well. A woman, on hearing their name mentioned, looked at me and said: 'Is this Smith's girl? Why, they will kill her and eat her for their dinner as she has lost them their pie.'

'They would not gain much by that,' said a man, 'for the girl has not a pound of flesh upon her bones.'

'Run, I tell you,' said the man who had first spoken to me. 'It is impossible for you to be worse off than you are with them; and if they catch you, they will be the death of you.'

'Run, girl, run,' was shouted on all sides, 'run, run for your life!' called out the boys, who by this time had pretty well picked up all the apples. I still stood weeping, not knowing what to do, when a woman exclaimed:

'As I am alive, here comes Mother Smith with a great whalebone; now, girl, you'll be cut to pieces.'

A general shout of 'Run! run!' from men, women, and children almost deafened me. Without stopping to see if Mrs. Smith was really coming, I did run as fast as my feet would carry me, till, strength and breath failing, I was obliged to slacken my pace. I had by this time run nearly the whole length of the Borough, and was almost at London Bridge. I had never before seen the Thames, and thought it was the sea. The noise of the water-works frightened me, and I hesitated about venturing on the bridge; but, seeing others go over, I, with some fear, followed them, and thought that I had escaped a great danger when I reached the opposite end in safety. But this imaginary fear was but a short interruption to my more just one of Mrs. Smith, and I now ventured to look back to see if I was pursued. Terror, I suppose, deceived me, for I thought I saw her coming with a stick in her hand. I again set off running, and, following the stream of the people, was soon in Cheapside. My feet were now sore, and cut in several places by the ice; but I still hurried on as well as I was able, till I entered St. Paul's Churchyard. There, notwithstanding my fear, I stood still to gaze on the immense and beautiful building, which I now for the first time beheld, and for some minutes I was lost in a dream of astonishment. My dream was soon interrupted by the crowds of people who were hurrying on in different directions, and who pushed me about without any ceremony, so that I was soon obliged to collect my scattered ideas and consider what I was now to do. I had left Mr. Smith's, but I had no where else to go to, not a friend to receive me, nor a house to shelter me for a single night. As I thought of my miserable situation, the tears chased each other down my face. Of the great numbers who passed me, no doubt some observed them; but they were all too much engaged with their own concerns to make any inquiries into the sorrows of a poor little outcast like myself, and I passed on unheeded. Going on with the course of the people, I went through St. Paul's Churchyard, down Ludgate Hill, along Fleet Street, and entered the Strand. By this time I had made the determination of endeavouring to find my way back to E——; of going to Mr. Sanders's, and telling him how ill I had been treated by the Smiths; for I thought that his influence with the overseers would prevent their punishing me, as they had threatened, if I did not stay in my place. I therefore now began to look down all the streets as I passed them to see if any of them led to the country; but on the right hand side they all led to other streets. I began to think I should never come to the end of them. Being at length arrived opposite to Catharine Street, I looked up to it, and saw that it led to a wide space, where there was a great quantity of green that looked like small trees. 'Well,' thought I, 'this must be the way into the country, and the trees are beginning to grow here, but how little they are!'