“Baby, poor baby, don’t cry so!” said Bertie, very softly, and he dangled the ends of his red sash before its tearful eyes, and shook them up and down: the attention of the baby was arrested, it ceased to howl, and put out its hands, and began to laugh instead! Bertie was very proud of his success, and even the sullen Dick muttered, “Well, I never!”
The little Earl undid his scarf and let the baby pull it towards itself. Dick’s eyes twinkled greedily.
“Master, that’d sell for summat!”
“Oh, you must not sell it,” said the little Earl, eagerly. “It is to amuse the poor baby. And what pretty big eyes he has! how he laughs!”
“Your shoes ’ud sell,” muttered Dick.
“Dick! don’t, Dick! that’s begging,” muttered Tam. Bertie stared in surprise. To sell his shoes seemed as odd as to be asked to sell his hair or his hands. The woman opened her fading, glazing eyes.
“They’re honest boys, little sir: you’ll pardon of ’em; they’ve eat nothing since yesternoon, and then ’twas only a carrot or two, and boys is main hungry.”
“And have you nothing?” said Bertie, aghast at the misery in this unknown world.
“How’d we have anything?” said the sick woman, grimly. “They’ve locked up my man, and Peg’s sent to school while we starve; and nobody earns nothin’, for Dick’s broke his leg, and I’ve naught in my breasts for baby——”