Tea, of a watery description, but hot (Bob took care of that) and sweet—at least, father's cup, owing to Tom's kindly attentions with a grimy thumb and finger. The herring. This, of course, was the chief dish. Several tit-bits, trembling upon father's fork, find their way into the "twinses'" mouths.
Lastly, bread and dripping.
Gull had tried to teach his motherless lads "to do as mother used." So there followed a systematic cleaning and arranging of the small supply of crockery.
Tom was the first to find a seat upon father's knee as he sat by the fire; but Bob soon climbed opposite to him, and together they looked with expectant eyes into father's face.
And father rubbed his head ruefully as he said, "Eh! I've got to tell the little lads summat to-night, have I? But there's nothing new been done, as far as I knows. It's the old dull story, bairnies. The fewest tips when the weather's the bitterest."
Gull was an outside porter at Waterloo Junction; and a slight lameness, caused by rheumatism, often cost him dearly. If his step could have been quicker, it would many times have taken him in the front of the younger porters, who darted forward and seemed to get all the jobs. The sixpences came very slowly into his pocket.
To-night he felt more than usually down, as he expressed it; and when he felt Tom's little bare toes slipping for warmth under his strong brown hand, tears crept into his eyes, and had to be rubbed away with the back of his sleeve.
Bob was very quick to notice this.
"I say," he cried, "you've been and gone and got something in your eye!"
"Smuts," suggested Tom.