“There ain’t no harm in being hungry, so long as the loaf comes!” rejoined Clare. “When I get work we shall be all right!”
“That’s your sort!” said the man. “But if there had been a God, as people say, he would ha’ made me fit to gi’e you a job, i’stead o’ stan’in’ here as you see me, with ne’er a turn o’ work to do for myself!”
“I’ll work my hardest to pay you back your sixpence,” said Clare.
“Nay, nay, lad! Don’t you trouble about that. I ha’ got two or three more i’ my pocket, thank God!”
“You have two Gods, have you, sir?” said Clare; “—one who does things for you, and one who don’t?”
“Come, you young shaver! you’re too much for me!” said the man laughing.
Tommy, having finished his bread, here thought fit to join them. He came slyly up, looking impudent now he was filled, with his hands where his pockets should have been.
“It was you stole the loaf, you little rascal!” said the workman, seeing thief in every line of the boy.
“Yes,” answered Tommy boldly, “an’ I don’t see no harm. The baker had lots, and he wasn’t ’ungry! It was Clare made a mull of it! He’s such a duffer you don’t know! He acshally took it back to the brute! He deserved what he got! The loaf was mine. It wasn’t his! I stole it!”
“Oh, ho! it wasn’t his! it was yours, was it?—Why do you go about with a chap like this, young gentleman?” said the man, turning to Clare. “I know by your speech you ain’t been brought up alongside o’ sech as him!”