‘I’ve bled whole basins’ full before now!’ boasted Diamond Jubilee. ‘It aren’t much of a treat, I can tell you, when once Mother Grimes starts a good old set-to, so I reckon we’ll go to the Fair for a bit and do coach-wheels for the folks to throw us money before we go home.’
This plan exactly suited Micky, and to the Fair they accordingly went.
So it came about that Micky presently found himself once more in the midst of all that delightful noise and bustle which made up Eastwich Fair. He would turn his very best coach-wheels, he decided, and earn quantities of pennies for motor-rides and ice-cream (last time Emmeline wouldn’t let them have any because people had to lick it out of glasses, as there were no spoons) and cocoanut-shies, and visits to the elephants. He wasn’t going to give all his money to that old Mother Grimes, whatever Diamond Jubilee might do.
To all appearance that young gentleman was in no great hurry to do anything, for he would keep loitering about in an idle way long after Micky had begun turning coach-wheels. Micky told him he was a slacker, but it made no difference.
Quite a little crowd gathered to watch Micky.
‘Don’t the little chap do it well?’ ‘Just look at the poor lamb’s bare feet?’ ‘He’d be a real pretty child if his face weren’t so dirty.’ ‘Don’t he thank you pretty?’
Those were some of the remarks people made as they threw down their halfpence, and for each coin Micky said, ‘Thank you very much, ma’am!’ or ‘Thank you very much, sir!’ with the utmost politeness, whichever way up he happened to be.
He had earned a small harvest of halfpence, and the little exhibition was still going on as merrily as a marriage-bell, when the dreadful thing happened.
‘Yes, I’ve been keeping my eye on you two young rascals. I know your little game!’ said a stern, startling voice.
Micky spun himself right way up in double-quick time, and what was his surprise and horror to see Diamond Jubilee struggling in the grip of a tall policeman!