“Lift yourself up,” I said, “and shut up. I want to read.” Then I’m bothered if the young cad didn’t begin yelling! Just because I didn’t lift him up. I never saw such a blub-baby in all my life. I couldn’t make out what he was up to at first. I thought he was curtseying and seeing how long he could hold his breath. But when it did come out, my eye! I thought the engine-driver would hear. I was in a regular funk; I thought he’d got a fit or something; I never heard such yelling. He was black in the face over it, and dancing. I’d a good mind to pull the cord and stop the train. But I thought I’d see if I could pull him round first.
So I picked him up and stuck him up on the seat. Would you believe it, Jossy? The moment he was up he stopped howling and began grinning. It had all been a plant to get me to lift him up; and as soon as he’d made me do it he laughed at me!
I can tell you it’s not pleasant to be made a fool of, even by a kid.
“I’m sitting beside you now,” he said, as much as to tell me he’d scored one off me.
I was too disgusted to take any further notice of him. I suppose he saw I was riled, and began to be a bit civil. He pulled a nasty sticky bit of chocolate out of his pocket and held it up to my nose.
“A sweetie for you,” he said.
I didn’t want to have him yelling again, so I took it. Ugh!—all over dust and hairs, and half melted.
He watched me gulp it down, and then, to my relief, got hold of the Boy’s Own Paper and began looking at the pictures. He got sick of that soon, and went and looked out of the window. Then he came and sat by me again, and began to get jolly familiar. He stroked my cheeks with his horrid sticky hand, and then climbed up on the seat and tried to lark with my cap. Then just because I didn’t shut him up, he clambered up on my back and nearly throttled me with his arms round my neck; and—what do you think?—he began to kiss me!
That was a drop too much.
“Stow it, kid!” I said.