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twg_000012583800 | reached Commercial Street, along which they proceeded a short distance. "We are now near some of the worst parts of London, sir," said Giles, "where great numbers of the criminal and most abandoned characters dwell." "Indeed," said Sir Richard, who did not seem to be much gratified by the information. As for Di, she wa... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583801 | _her_ boy was a thief and was born in the midst of such naughty people had fallen with chilling influence on her heart, for she had never thought of anything but the story-book "poor but honest parents!" "What large building is that?" inquired the knight, who began to wish that he had not given way to his daughter's im... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583802 | one opposite, I mean, with placards under the windows." "That is the well-known Home of Industry, instituted and managed by Miss Macpherson and a staff of volunteer workers. They do a deal of good, sir, in this neighbourhood." "Ah! indeed," said Sir Richard, who had never before heard of the Home of Industry. "And, pra... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583803 | Miss Mac-- what did you call her?" "Macpherson. The lady, you know, who sends out so many rescued waifs and strays to Canada, and spends all her time in caring for the poorest of the poor in the East-End and in preaching the gospel to them. You've often seen accounts of her work, no doubt, in the _Christian_?" "Well--n... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583804 | read the _Times_, but, now you mention it, I have some faint remembrance of seeing reference to such matters. Very self-denying, no doubt, and praiseworthy, though I must say that I doubt the use of preaching the gospel to such persons. From what I have seen of these lowest people I should think they were too deeply su... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583805 | to be capable of appreciating the lofty and sublime sentiments of Christianity." Number felt a touch of surprise at these words, though he was too well-bred a policeman to express his feelings by word or look. In fact, although not pre-eminently noted for piety, he had been led by training, and afterwards by personal e... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583806 | a very different standpoint from that of Sir Richard. He made no reply, however, but, turning round the corner of the Home of Industry, entered a narrow street which bore palpable evidence of being the abode of deepest poverty. From the faces and garments of the inhabitants it was also evidently associated with the dee... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583807 | some of the residents sitting on their doorsteps with scratched faces, swelled lips and cheeks, and dishevelled hair, and beheld the children in half-naked condition rolling in the kennel and extremely filthy, she clung closer to her father's side and began to suspect there were some phases of life she had never seen--... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583808 | thoughts were we cannot tell, for he said nothing, but disgust was more prominent than pity on his fine countenance. Those who sat on the doorsteps, or lolled with a dissipated air against the door-posts, seemed to appreciate him at his proper value, for they scowled at him as he passed. They recognised Number , howeve... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583809 | and gave him only a passing glance of indifference. "You said it would be dangerous for me to come here by myself," said Sir Richard, turning to Giles, as he entered another and even worse street. "Are they then so violent?" "Many of them are among the worst criminals in London, sir. Here is the court of which you are | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583810 | in search: Roy's Court." As he spoke, Ned Frog staggered out of his own doorway, clenched his fists, and looked with a vindictive scowl at the strangers. A second glance induced him to unclench his fists and reel round the corner on his way to a neighbouring grog-shop. Whatever other shops may decay in that region, the... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583811 | weeds, always flourish. The court was apparently much deserted at that hour, for the men had not yet returned from their work--whatever that might be--and most of the women were within doors. "This is the house," continued Giles, descending the few steps, and tapping at the door; "I have been here before. They know me.... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583812 | Hetty, and for the first time since entering those regions of poverty and crime, little Di felt a slight rise in her spirits, for through Hetty's face shone the bright spirit within; albeit the shining was through some dirt and dishevelment, good principle not being able altogether to overcome the depressing influences... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583813 | at home, Hetty!" "Oh! yes, sir. Mother, here's Mr Scott. Come in, sir. We are so glad to see you, and--" She stopped, and gazed inquiringly at the visitors who followed. "I've brought some friends of Bobby to inquire for him. Sir Richard Brandon--Mrs Frog." Number stood aside, and, with something like a smile on his fa... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583814 | to Poverty. Wealth made a slightly confused bow to Poverty, and Poverty, looking askance at Wealth, dropt a mild courtesy. "Vell now, I'm a Dutchman if it ain't the hangel!" exclaimed a voice in the corner of the small room, before either Wealth or Poverty could utter a word. "Oh! it's _my_ boy," exclaimed Di with deli... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583815 | the poverty, dirt, and extremely bad air, as she ran forward and took hold of Bobby's hand. It was a pre-eminently dirty hand, and formed a remarkable contrast to the little hands that grasped it! The small street boy was, for the first time in his life, bereft of speech! When that faculty returned, he remarked in lang... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583816 | obscure to Di:-- "Vell, if this ain't a go!" "What is a go?" asked Di with innocent surprise. Instead of answering, Bobby Frog burst into a fit of laughter, but stopped rather suddenly with an expression of pain. "Oh! 'old on! I say. This won't do. Doctor 'e said I musn't larf, 'cause it shakes the leg too much. But, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583817 | you know, wot's a cove to do ven a hangel comes to him and axes sitch rum questions?" Again he laughed, and again stopped short in pain. "I'm _so_ sorry! Does it feel _very_ painful? You can't think how constantly I've been thinking of you since the accident; for it was all my fault. If I hadn't jumped up in | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583818 | such a passion, the pony wouldn't have run away, and you wouldn't have been hurt. I'm so _very, very_ sorry, and I got dear papa to bring me here to tell you so, and to see if we could do anything to make you well." Again Bobby was rendered speechless, but his mind was active. "Wot! I ain't dreamin', am | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583819 | I? 'As a hangel _really_ come to my bedside all the vay from the Vest-end, an' brought 'er dear pa'--vich means the guv'nor, I fancy--all for to tell me--a kid whose life is spent in `movin' on'--that she's wery, wery, sorry I've got my leg broke, an' that she's bin an' done it, an' she would like to know if | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583820 | she can do hanythink as'll make me vell! But it ain't true. It's a big lie! I'm dreamin', that's all. I've been took to hospital, an' got d'lirious-- that's wot it is. I'll try to sleep!" With this end in view he shut his eyes, and remained quite still for a few seconds, and when Di looked at his pinched | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583821 | and pale face in this placid condition, the tears _would_ overflow their natural boundary, and sobs _would_ rise up in her pretty throat, but she choked them back for fear of disturbing her boy. Presently the boy opened his eyes. "Wot, are you there yet?" he asked. "Oh yes. Did you think I was going away?" she replied,... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583822 | look of innocent surprise. "I won't leave you now. I'll stay here and nurse you, if papa will let me. I have slept once on a shake-down, when I was forced by a storm to stay all night at a juv'nile party. So if you've a corner here, it will do nicely--" "My dear child," interrupted her amazed father, "you | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583823 | are talking nonsense. And--do keep a little further from the bed. There may be-- you know--infection--" "Oh! you needn't fear infection here, sir," said Mrs Frog, somewhat sharply. "We are poor enough, God knows, though I _have_ seen better times, but we keep ourselves pretty clean, though we can't afford to spend much... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583824 | and money so scarce--so _very_ scarce!" "Forgive me, my good woman," said Sir Richard, hastily, "I did not mean to offend, but circumstances would seem to favour the idea--of--of--" And here Wealth--although a bank director and chairman of several boards, and capable of making a neat, if weakly, speech on economic laws... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583825 | Poverty. Indeed, though he had often theorised about that stricken creature, he had never before fairly hunted her down, run her into her den, and fairly looked her in the face. "The fact is, Mrs Frog," said Giles Scott, coming to the rescue, "Sir Richard is anxious to know something about your affairs--your family, yo... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583826 | the way, where is baby?" he said looking round the room. "She's gone lost," said Mrs Frog. "Lost?" repeated Giles, with a significant look. "Ay, lost," repeated Mrs Frog, with a look of equal significance. "Bless me, how did you lose your child?" asked Sir Richard, in some surprise. "Oh! sir, that often happens to us p... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583827 | to it," said Mrs Frog, in a half bantering half bitter tone. Sir Richard suddenly called to mind the fact--which had not before impressed him, though he had read and commented on it--that , children under ten years of age had been lost that year, (and it was no exceptional year, as police reports will show), in the str... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583828 | London, and that of these children were _never found_. He now beheld, as he imagined, one of the losers of the lost ones, and felt stricken. "Well now," said Giles to Mrs Frog, "let's hear how you get along. What does your husband do?" "He mostly does nothin' but drink. Sometimes he sells little birds; sometimes he sel... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583829 | or boot-laces in Cheapside, an' turns in a little that way, but it all goes to the grog-shop; none of it comes here. Then he has a mill now an' again--" "A mill?" said Sir Richard,--"is it a snuff or flour--" "He's a professional pugilist," explained Giles. "An' he's employed at a music-hall," continued Mrs Frog, "to c... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583830 | songs an' keep order. An' Bobby always used to pick a few coppers by runnin' messages, sellin' matches, and odd jobs. But he's knocked over now." "And yourself. How do you add to the general fund?" asked Sir Richard, becoming interested in the household management of Poverty. "Well, I char a bit an' wash a bit, sir, wh... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583831 | enough--which ain't often. An' sometimes I lights the Jews' fires for 'em, an' clean up their 'earths on Saturdays--w'ich is their Sundays, sir. But Hetty works like a horse. It's she as keeps us from the work'us, sir. She's got employment at a slop shop, and by workin' 'ard all day manages to make about one shillin' a... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583832 | beg your pardon--how much?" "One shillin', sir." "Ah, you mean one shilling a day, I suppose." "No, sir, I mean one shillin' a _week_. Mr Scott there knows that I'm tellin' what's true." Giles nodded, and Sir Richard said, "ha-a-hem," having nothing more lucid to remark on such an amazing financial problem as was here ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583833 | Mrs Frog, "poor Hetty has had a sad disappointment this week--" "Oh! mother," interrupted Hetty, "don't trouble the gentleman with that. Perhaps he wouldn't understand it, for of course he hasn't heard about all the outs and ins of slop-work." "Pardon me, my good girl," said Sir Richard, "I have not, as you truly remar... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583834 | minutely, but my mind is not unaccustomed to financial matters. Pray let me hear about this--" A savage growling, something between a mastiff and a man, outside the door, here interrupted the visitor, and a hand was heard fumbling about the latch. As the hand seemed to lack skill to open the door the foot considerately... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583835 | hand and burst it open, whereupon the huge frame of Ned Frog stumbled into the room and fell prostrate at the feet of Sir Richard, who rose hastily and stepped back. The pugilist sprang up, doubled his ever ready fists, and, glaring at the knight, asked savagely: "Who the--" He was checked in the utterance of a ferocio... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583836 | at that moment he encountered the grave eye of Number . Relaxing his fists he thrust them into his coat-pockets, and, with a subdued air, staggered out of the house. "My 'usband, sir," said Mrs Frog, in answer to her visitor's inquiring glance. "Oh! is that his usual mode of returning home?" "No, sir," answered Bobby f... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583837 | he was beginning to be amused by the succession of surprises which Wealth was receiving, "'e don't always come in so. Sometimes 'e sends 'is 'ead first an' the feet come afterwards. In any case the furniture's apt to suffer, not to mention the in'abitants, but you've saved us to-night, sir, or, raither, Mr Scott 'as sa... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583838 | you." Poor little Di, who had been terribly frightened, clung closer to her father's arm on hearing this. "Perhaps," said Sir Richard, "it would be as well that we should go, in case Mr Frog should return." He was about to say good-bye when Di checked him, and, despite her fears, urged a short delay. "We haven't heard,... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583839 | about the slops yet. Do stop just one minute, dear papa. I wonder if it's like the beef-tea nurse makes for me when I'm ill." "It's not that kind of slops, darling, but ready-made clothing to which reference is made. But you are right. Let us hear about it, Miss Hetty." The idea of "Miss" being applied to Hetty, and | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583840 | slops compared to beef-tea proved almost too much for the broken-legged boy in the corner, but he put strong constraint on himself and listened. "Indeed, sir, I do not complain," said Hetty, quite distressed at being thus forcibly dragged into notice. "I am thankful for what has been sent--indeed I am--only it _was_ a ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583841 | when we so much needed all we could make amongst us." She stopped and had difficulty in restraining tears. "Go on, Hetty," said her mother, "and don't be afraid. Bless you, he's not goin' to report what you say." "I know that, mother. Well, sir, this was the way on it. They sometimes--" "Excuse me--who are `they'?" "I ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583842 | sir, I--I'd rather not tell." "Very well. I respect your feelings, my girl. Some slop-making firm, I suppose. Go on." "Yes, sir. Well--they sometimes gives me extra work to do at home. It do come pretty hard on me after goin' through the regular day's work, from early mornin' till night, but then, you see, it brings in... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583843 | more money--and, I'm strong, thank God." Sir Richard looked at Hetty's thin and colourless though pretty face, and thought it possible that she might be stronger with advantage. "Of late," continued the girl, "I've bin havin' extra work in this way, and last week I got twelve children's ulsters to make up. This job whe... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583844 | and sixpence." "How much?" "Six and sixpence, sir." "For the whole twelve?" asked Sir Richard. "Yes, sir--that was sixpence halfpenny for makin' up each ulster. It's not much, sir." "No," murmured Wealth in an absent manner; "sixpence halfpenny is _not_ much." "But when I took them back," continued Hetty--and here the ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583845 | said he'd forgot to tell me that this order was for the colonies, that he had taken it at a very low price, and that he could only give me three shillin's for the job. Of--of course three shillin's is better the nothin', but after workin' hard for such a long long time an' expectin' six, it was--" Here the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583846 | tears refused to be pent up any longer, and the poor girl quietly bending forward hid her face in her hand. "Come, I think we will go now," said Sir Richard, rising hastily. "Good-night, Mrs Frog, I shall probably see you again--at least--you shall hear from me. Now, Di--say good-night to your boy." In a few minutes Si... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583847 | outside, taking in deep draughts of the comparatively fresher air of the court. "The old screw," growled Bobby, when the door was shut. "'E didn't leave us so much as a single bob--not even a brown, though 'e pretends that six of 'em ain't much." "Don't be hard on him, Bobby," said Hetty, drying her eyes; "he spoke ver... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583848 | you know, an' p'raps he means to help us afterwards." "Spoke kind," retorted the indignant boy; "I tell 'ee wot, Hetty, you're far too soft an' forgivin'. I s'pose that's wot they teaches you in Sunday-school at George Yard--eh? Vill speakin' kind feed us, vill it clothe us, vill it pay for our lodgin's!" The door open... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583849 | and Number re-entered. "The gentleman sent me back to give you this, Mrs Frog," laying a sovereign on the rickety table. "He said he didn't like to offer it to you himself for fear of hurting your feelings, but I told him he needn't be afraid on that score! Was I right, Missis? Look well after it, now, an' see | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583850 | that Ned don't get his fingers on it." Giles left the room, and Mrs Frog, taking up the piece of gold, fondled it for some time in her thin fingers, as though she wished to make quite sure of its reality. Then wrapping it carefully in a piece of old newspaper, she thrust it into her bosom. Bobby gazed at | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583851 | her in silence up to this point, and then turned his face to the wall. He did not speak, but we cannot say that he did not pray, for, mentally he said, "I beg your parding, old gen'l'm'n, an' I on'y pray that a lot of fellers like you may come 'ere sometimes to 'urt our feelin's in that vay!" | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583852 | At that moment Hetty bent over the bed, and, softly kissing her brother's dirty face, whispered, "Yes, Bobby, that's what they teach me in Sunday-school at George Yard." Thereafter Wealth drove home in a cab, and Poverty went to bed in her rags. CHAPTER SEVEN. BICYCLING AND ITS OCCASIONAL RESULTS. It is pleasant to tur... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583853 | of the city to the fresh air and quiet of the country. To the man who spends most of his time in the heart of London, going into the country--even for a short distance--is like passing into the fields of Elysium. This was, at all events, the opinion of Stephen Welland; and Stephen must have been a good judge, for | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583854 | he tried the change frequently, being exceedingly fond of bicycling, and occasionally taking what he termed long spins on that remarkable instrument. One morning, early in the summer-time, young Welland, (he was only eighteen), mounted his iron horse in the neighbourhood of Kensington, and glided away at a leisurely pa... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583855 | he got up steam, to use his own phrase, and went at a rapid pace until he met a "chum," by appointment. This chum was also mounted on a bicycle, and was none other than our friend Samuel Twitter, Junior--known at home as Sammy, and by his companions as Sam. "Isn't it a glorious day, Sam?" said Welland as he | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583856 | rode up and sprang off his steed. "Magnificent!" answered his friend, also dismounting and shaking hands. "Why, Stephen, what an enormous machine you ride!" "Yes, it's pretty high-- inches. My legs are long, you see. Well, where are we to run to-day?" "Wherever you like," said Sam, "only let it be a short run, not more... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583857 | I've got an appointment this afternoon with my old dad which I can't get off." "That'll do very well," said Welland, "so we can go round by--" Here he described a route by country road and village, which we pretend not to remember. It is sufficient to know that it represented the required "short" run of forty miles--su... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583858 | estimate of distance by the youth of the present day! "Now then, off we go," said Welland, giving his wheel--he quite ignored the existence of the little thing at the back--a shove, putting his left foot on the treadle, and flinging his right leg gracefully over. Young Twitter followed suit, but Sammy was neither exper... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583859 | ride easily, and travel long distances, but he could only mount by means of the somewhat clumsy process of hopping behind for several yards. Once up, however, he went swiftly enough alongside his tall companion, and the two friends thereafter kept abreast. "Oh! isn't it a charming sensation to have the cool air fanning... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583860 | tremor of the wheel, and see the trees and houses flow past at such a pace? It is the likest thing to flying I ever felt," said Welland, as they descended a slight incline at, probably, fifteen miles an hour. "It is delightful," replied Sam, "but, I say, we better put on the brakes here a bit. It gets much | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583861 | steeper further down." Instead of applying the brake, however, young Welland, in the exuberance of his joy, threw his long legs over the handles, and went down the slope at railway speed, ready, as he remarked, for a jump if anything should go wrong. Twitter was by no means as bold as his friend, but, being ashamed to ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583862 | white feather, he quietly threw his shorter legs over the handles, and thus the two, perched--from a fore-and-aft point of view-- upon nothing, went in triumph to the bottom of the hill. A long stretch of smooth level road now lay before them. It required the merest touch on the treadles to send them skimming along lik... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583863 | ice, or swallows flying low. Like gentle ghosts they fleeted along with little more than a muffled sound, for their axles turned in ball-sockets and their warning bells were silent save when touched. Onward they went with untiring energy, mile after mile, passing everything on the way--pedestrians, equestrians, carts a... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583864 | the hills with a rush to keep up the pace, and descending on the other sides at what Welland styled a "lightning run." Now they were skimming along a road which skirted the margin of a canal, the one with hands in his coat-pockets, the other with his arms crossed, and both steering with their feet; now passing under a | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583865 | railway-arch, and giving a wild shout, partly to rouse the slumbering echoes that lodged there, and partly to rouse the spirit of a small dog which chanced to be passing under it--in both cases successfully! Anon they were gliding over a piece of exposed ground on which the sun beat with intense light, causing their sh... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583866 | them. Again they were down in a hollow, gliding under a row of trees, where they shut off a little of the steam and removed their caps, the better to enjoy the grateful shade. Soon they were out in the sunshine again, the spokes of their wheels invisible as they topped a small eminence from the summit of which they | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583867 | took in one comprehensive view of undulating lands, with villages scattered all round, farm-houses here and there, green fields and flowering meadows, traversed by rivulet or canal, with cattle, sheep, and horses gazing at them in silent or startled wonder, and birds twittering welcome from the trees and hedge-rows eve... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583868 | town where they had to put hands to the handles again and steer with precaution, for little dogs had a tendency to bolt out at them from unexpected corners, and poultry is prone to lose its heads and rush into the very jaws of danger, in a cackling effort to avoid it. Stray kittens and pigs, too, exhibited obstinate te... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583869 | and only gave in when it was nearly too late for repentance. Little children, also, became sources of danger, standing in the middle of roads until, perceiving a possible catastrophe, they dashed wildly aside--always to the very side on which the riders had resolved to pass,--and escaped by absolute miracle! Presently ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583870 | steep enough to necessitate dismounting, but it rendered a rush inadvisable. They therefore worked up slowly, and, on gaining the top, got off to breathe and rest a while. "That _was_ a glorious run, wasn't it, Sam?" said Welland, flicking the dust from his knees with his handkerchief. "What d'ye say to a glass of beer... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583871 | I'm Blue Ribbon." "Oh! nonsense. Why not do as I do--drink in moderation?" "Well, I didn't think much about it when I put it on," said Sam, who was a very sensitive, and not very strong-minded youth; "the rest of us did it, you know, by father's advice, and I joined because they did." Welland laughed rather sarcastical... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583872 | but made no rejoinder, and Sam, who could not stand being laughed at, said-- "Well, come, I'll go in for one glass. I'll be my own doctor, and prescribe it medicinally! Besides, it's an exceptional occasion this, for it is awfully hot." "It's about the best run I ever had in the same space of time," said Welland on qui... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583873 | the beer shop. "First-rate," returned Sam, "I wish my old dad could ride with us. He _would_ enjoy it so." "Couldn't we bring him out on a horse? He could ride that, I suppose?" "Never saw him on a horse but once," said Sam, "and that time he fell off. But it's worth suggesting to him." "Better if he got | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583874 | a tricycle," said Welland. "I don't think that would do, for he's too old for long rides, and too short-winded. Now, Stephen, I'm not going to run down this hill. We _must_ take it easy, for it's far too steep." "Nonsense, man, it's nothing to speak of; see, I'll go first and show you the way." He gave the treadle | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583875 | a thrust that sent him off like an arrow from a bow. "Stay! there's a caravan or something at the bottom--wild beasts' show, I think! Stop! hold on!" But Sam Twitter shouted in vain. Welland's was a joyous spirit, apt to run away with him. He placed his legs over the handles for security, and allowed the machine to run... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583876 | It gathered speed as it went, for the hill became steeper, insomuch that the rider once or twice felt the hind-wheel rise, and had to lean well back to keep it on the ground. The pace began to exceed even Welland's idea of pleasure, but now it was too late to use the brake, for well did he know that | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583877 | on such a slope and going at such a pace the slightest check on the front wheel would send him over. He did not feel alarmed however, for he was now near the bottom of the hill, and half a minute more would send him in safety on the level road at the foot. But just at the foot there | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583878 | was a sharpish turn in the road, and Welland looked at it earnestly. At an ordinary pace such a turn could have been easily taken, but at such a rate as he had by that time attained, he felt it would require a tremendous lean over to accomplish it. Still he lost no confidence, for he was an athlete by | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583879 | practice if not by profession, and he gathered up his energies for the moment of action. The people of the caravan--whoever they were--had seen him coming, and, beginning to realise his danger to some extent, had hastily cleared the road to let him pass. Welland considered the rate of speed; felt, rather than calculate... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583880 | boldly until the tire almost slipped sideways on the road, and came rushing round with a magnificent sweep, when, horrible sight! a slight ridge of what is called road-metal crossed the entire road from side to side! A drain or water pipe had recently been repaired, and the new ridge had not yet been worn down by traff... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583881 | no time for thought or change of action. Another moment and the wheel was upon it, the crash came, and the rider went off with such force that he was shot well in advance of the machine, as it went with tremendous violence into the ditch. If Welland's feet had been on the treadles he must have turned a complete | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583882 | somersault. As it was he alighted on his feet, but came to the ground with such force that he failed to save himself. One frantic effort he made and then went down headlong and rolled over on his back in a state of insensibility. When Sam Twitter came to the bottom of the hill with the brake well applied he | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583883 | was able to check himself in time to escape the danger, and ran to where his friend lay. For a few minutes the unfortunate youth lay as if he had been dead. Then his blood resumed its flow, and when the eyes opened he found Sam kneeling on one side of him with a smelling bottle which some lady had | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583884 | lent him, and a kindly-faced elderly man with an iron-grey beard kneeling on the other side and holding a cup of water to his lips. "That's right, Stephen, look up," said Sam, who was terribly frightened, "you're not much hurt, are you?" "Hurt, old fellow, eh?" sighed Stephen, "why should I be hurt? Where am I? What ha... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583885 | a sip, my young friend, it will revive you," said the man with the kindly face. "You have had a narrow escape, but God has mercifully spared you. Try to move now; gently--we must see that no bones have been broken before allowing you to rise." By this time Welland had completely recovered, and was anxious to rise; all ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583886 | more that a crowd of children surrounded him, among whom he observed several ladies and gentlemen, but he lay still until the kindly stranger had felt him all over and come to the conclusion that no serious damage had been done. "Oh! I'm all right, thank you," said the youth on rising, and affecting to move as though n... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583887 | happened, but he was constrained to catch hold of the stranger rather suddenly, and sat down on the grass by the road-side. "I do believe I've got a shake after all," he said with a perplexed smile and sigh. "But," he added, looking round with an attempt at gaiety, "I suspect my poor bicycle has got a worse shake. Do | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583888 | look after it, Sam, and see how it is." Twitter soon returned with a crestfallen expression. "It's done for, Stephen. I'm sorry to say the whole concern seems to be mashed up into a kind of wire-fencing!" "Is it past mending, Sam?" "Past mending by any ordinary blacksmith, certainly. No one but the maker can doctor it,... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583889 | think it would take him a fortnight at least." "What is to be done?" said Stephen, with some of his companion's regret of tone. "What a fool I was to take such a hill--spoilt such a glorious day too--for you as well as myself, Sam. I'm _very_ sorry, but that won't mend matters." "Are you far from home, gentlemen?" aske... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583890 | the man with the iron-grey beard, who had listened to the conversation with a look of sympathy. "Ay, much too far to walk," said Welland. "D'you happen to know how far off the nearest railway station is?" "Three miles," answered the stranger, "and in your condition you are quite unfit to walk that distance." "I'm not s... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583891 | replied the youth, with a pitiful look. "I think I'm game for three miles, if I had nothing to carry but myself, but I can't leave my bicycle in the ditch, you know!" "Of course you can't," rejoined the stranger in a cheery tone, "and I think we can help you in this difficulty. I am a London City Missionary. | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583892 | My name is John Seaward. We have, as you see, brought out a number of our Sunday-school children, to give them a sight of God's beautiful earth; poor things, they've been used to bricks, mortar, and stone all their lives hitherto. Now, if you choose to spend the remainder of the day with us, we will be happy to give | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583893 | you and the injured bicycle a place in our vans till we reach a cabstand or a railway station. What say you? It will give much pleasure to me and the teachers." Welland glanced at his friend. "You see, Sam, there's no help for it, old boy. You'll have to return alone." "Unless your friend will also join us," said | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583894 | the missionary. "You are very kind," said Sam, "but I cannot stay, as I have an engagement which must be kept. Never mind, Stephen. I'll just complete the trip alone, and comfort myself with the assurance that I leave you in good hands. So, good-bye, old boy." "Good-bye, Twitter," said Stephen, grasping his friend's ha... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583895 | heard your friend call you Sam just now. Excuse my asking--are you related to Samuel Twitter of Twitter, Slime, and Company, in the city?" "I'm his eldest son," said Sam. "Then I have much pleasure in making your acquaintance," returned the other, extending his hand, "for although I have never met your father, I know y... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583896 | one of the best and most regular teachers in our Sunday-schools. Is she not, Hetty?" he said, turning to a sweet-faced girl who stood near him. "Indeed she is, I was her pupil for some years, and now I teach one of her old classes," replied the girl. "I work in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel, sir," continued the miss... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583897 | most of the children here attend the Institution in George Yard." "Well, I shall tell my mother of this unexpected meeting," said Sam, as he remounted his bicycle. "Good-bye, Stephen. Don't romp too much with the children!" "Adieu, Sam, and don't break your neck on the bicycle." In a few minutes Sam Twitter and his bic... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583898 | CHAPTER EIGHT. A GREAT AND MEMORABLE DAY. When young Stephen Welland was conducted by John Seaward the missionary into a large field dotted with trees, close to where his accident had happened, he found that the children and their guardians were busily engaged in making arrangements for the spending of an enjoyable day... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012583899 | was not a mere monster excursion of ordinary Sunday-schools, but one of exceedingly poor children, whose garments, faces, and general condition, told too surely that they belonged to the lowest grade in the social scale. "Yes," said the missionary, in reply to some question from Welland, "the agency at George Yard, to ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
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