“He hasn’t had his breakfast yet,” said Mrs. Pipkin. “You’ll give him a chance to eat something, I guess!” her eyes sparkling as she glanced from Sellick to the squire.
“O, sartin!” said Sellick. “I never thought of that, having had a bite myself ’fore I started. I believe in a full stumick. Come, sonny! snatch a bite; you’ll feel better.”
But Jack was too full of grief to think of food. “I shall never eat anything in this house again!” he exclaimed, with short, convulsive sobs.
Upon this, little Kate, who had been looking on with wonder and sympathy, not understanding what the dreadful trouble was, ran up to him, and threw her arms about him, exclaiming passionately, “O Jack! you will! you must! I love you, if nobody else does! But we all do! You mustn’t go away! You have been better to me than my own brothers; they plague me, but you never do!—O Mr. Peternot! he ain’t a bad boy; Jack ain’t bad! Don’t take him off to jail!”
But there was no help for the poor lad then. Peternot was inexorable. Jack made no resistance. Mrs. Chatford, returning from a last fruitless appeal to her husband, kissed him tenderly, and said what comforting words she could. Mrs. Pipkin put something into his pocket, as she bent over him; and Mr. Pipkin told him to keep a stiff upper lip. Kate clung to him with affection and wild grief. But Mr. Chatford did not come to bid him good by; and he did not say good by to Phineas.
CHAPTER XXII
JACK AND THE JOLLY CONSTABLE.
So Jack left the home and friends that for a brief season had been so pleasant and dear to him, and went out to take leave of another and older friend. This was Lion. He hugged and kissed the poor, faithful, affectionate creature; then, sending him to his kennel, he said to Kate, “See that he is taken good care of, won’t you? I—if I never—” But here he choked and could say no more.
