‘In course not, my dear,’ said Carroty Bill sarcastically: ‘he’s a gentleman, ain’t he? and he’ll behave as such.’ Then, turning to the boy, who was still lingering by the woman’s side, he said, ‘Come here, you little warmint, or I’ll break every bone in your body.’
This conversation was carried on at the White Horse, where the speaker was mostly to be found. The woman gave way; the speaker took the boy to Parker’s Piece. Arrived there, he sought out his own apartment, and with the help of the lad cleared it of everything it possessed in the shape of chairs or clothes or table, leaving only a little straw, on which the family were to lie. A dealer just by purchased his household chattels for a song, about as much as they were worth, and Carroty Bill had just time to get a drop at the White Horse and return in an unwonted state of sobriety before the Vicar and his curates entered.
‘Dear me,’ said the kind-hearted Vicar, ‘what wretchedness! How is it you are so badly off?’
‘Wife ill, and I got no work to do. It’s very hard on a poor fellow like me,’ said our carroty friend.
‘Ah! it is indeed,’ said the Vicar.
‘Yes, I little thought as I should have come to this,’ said the man, in a desponding tone.
‘Ah, well,’ said the Vicar, ‘perhaps we can help you a little.’
‘Thank you, sir, kindly,’ said the hardened hypocrite.
‘Dear me!’ said the Vicar, ‘what wretchedness—not a stick in the place! We must do something to relieve this distressing case. What say you?’ said he to his companions.
‘Oh, a pair of blankets and a hundredweight of coal at the least.’