“It was hard work keeping awake between four and five, but I managed it; for I took off my boots, and walked up and down the room softly, trying to count up how many streets I passed on the near side from Piccadilly to the Mansion House and how many coming back again; and though I tried at it for an hour, I never got it right, for the streets seemed to dodge from one side to the other, and bothered me; but I kept awake, and sat down at five o’clock, feeling rather shivery, to another taste of gin and water, and all that time poor Sam never moved—only breathed softly when I went to listen.
“Seven o’clock came at last by Sam’s watch, standing in the little sand-castle on the chimney-piece; and then I called his wife gently, and in a few minutes more she was down, and wanted to get me some breakfast; but I said ‘No!’ for I knew it would be ready at home; and I was just going when I heard her give a shriek by the bedside, and down she went upon the floor—fainted dead away.
“He never give more than a sigh, mum, or I must have heerd him; for my eyes never closed that night, and though p’raps last time I looked I ought to have seen it, yet, not thinking of anything, my sight being not so keen as that of his own wife, who, poor woman! I lifted into a chair, and called for help.
“That’s what the bits of crape are for, mum, it’s a way we have with us. What complaint? Well, I only have my ideas, and thinks that if you run a hoss too hard he’s soon wore out, and I fancy as men can be run too hard as well. It seems to me as Natur’ never meant men to keep on day after day all them hours at a stretch; and though it ain’t like hard labour, yet you’re at it all the time; and, besides, what were Sundays made for if not for a rest? Seems to me, mum, that if a day of rest hadn’t been wanted, Sunday would have been left out altogether, and we should have gone right on from Saturday to Monday at once.
“P’raps ’tain’t for me to complain; but I have my own ideas about poor Sam.”
Chapter Thirteen.
Having Patience.
Much living in London and the constant unvarying round of life does tell upon the constitution as in the case of the poor driver, and I was feeling heavy and sad beyond my wont in a way that excited the notice of my friends. The Hendricks were the first to speak about it, and with affectionate solicitude Mr Hendrick begged that I would listen to his advice.