Willie the Waif Part 1

Willie the Waif.

by Minie Herbert.

CHAPTER I

RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME

One hot summer's day the sun was trying to shine into a poor, miserable alley in London. There are some places in that great city where even the sun cannot find its way, and Primrose Place was one of them.

It was a very narrow court, and the houses on both sides were so high that the people who lived there had never seen the sunbeams shining on the pavement or glinting on the windows. But even supposing the sun could have shone into the court, it would not have been able to pierce into the rooms, for the windows were too dirty. Most of them were broken and patched with brown paper. The doors of the houses always stood open, so that people could go in and out without knocking. Very few of them could afford to pay enough rent to have two rooms all to themselves, so that a whole family was generally huddled into one room, in which they had to live during the day and sleep at night. But most of the daytime was spent by the inhabitants of Primrose Place out of doors, lounging about on the pavement, or sitting on the doorsteps.

On this day, if you had walked down the court, you would have seen groups of women standing round the doors gossiping, with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, and nothing on their heads. This was the way they all spent their time when they were not in the beershops, one of which stood, as usual, at each corner of the court. These women never had time to clean their rooms, even if they had known they were dirty. But this fact they did not know. They had never seen them any other way and they had become so used to their surroundings that they never noticed the dirt.

The children ran about the court or played in the gutter, barefooted and bareheaded. Poor little things! there was n.o.body in Primrose Place to love or care for them, or teach them to be good. Their mothers would not be troubled by them, and the children kept out of their way as much as possible, and, of course, got into that of every body else. This was the cause of a great deal of quarrelling among the mothers, because, although they didn't care for their children themselves, they wouldn't let any one else find fault with them. At the present time three or four boys were playing at b.u.t.tons. One of them accused another of cheating, which he denied. This led to angry words, then to blows, when suddenly one of the mothers called out:---"'Ere, you Tom, just you leave my Bill alone, or I'll warm yer!" This was taken up by Tom's mother, and the women fought the children's battle. In such scenes the children of Primrose Place grew up---miserable, dirty, and generally neglected.

Sitting alone on the pavement that evening, huddled close to the wall, was a little boy of six or seven years of age. His fair hair hung in tangled curls all round his head. His clothes, which had never been made for him, were much too large, and so ragged that they could scarcely hold together.

As he sat there, with his little bare feet stretched out on the pavement, he seemed to be watching for somebody, for he kept continually; looking towards the end of the court which opened out on to the main road.

All at once he started up eagerly as [the one for whom he had been watching turned the corner.] This was his brother, a boy about ten years of age, a tired, miserable-looking little fellow, carrying in his hand a broom.

He had been spending the day trying to earn a few pence by sweeping a crossing. His anxious face changed the instant he caught sight of his little brother, for these two were all the world to each other.

"I'm so glad you've come 'ome Bob," said Willie. "I've been waitin' such a long time for yer."

"Poor little chap! I'm a bit late to-day, and I s'pose yer feel lonely.

Ain't yer 'ad no one to play with?"

"No," he replied. "All the boys tease and make such a noise. It makes my 'ead ache. But it's all right now you've come 'ome," he added cheerfully.

Bob looked down at the fragile little figure at his side and a great lump seemed to rise in his throat, almost choking him, as he thought how thin Willie was; and he wished that he could make haste and grow up to be a man, so that he could earn a lot of money and buy nice things for him to eat.

"But s'pose Willie should die before then!" The thought was too dreadful, and he put it away directly it came.

"See, Willie," he said, "what I've got for yer!" and he held up a large penny bun before the child.

Willie clapped his hands. "Oh, Bob, is that for me, really?

Let's sit down 'ere and eat it."

The child sat down on the kerbstone, pulled his brother down beside him, and broke the bun in halves. One half he handed to Bob, and would take no refusal. So the two children soon devoured it between them.

"I say, Bob," said Willie, when they had finished, "'ave yer 'ad a good day to-day?"

"No," said Bob sadly. "Yer see there's no mud about and when there's no mud the people don't take any notice of yer----"

"Oh, dear!" said Willie. "Father'll whack yer. I wish yer 'adn't bought me the bun."

"I don't, care," responded the other wearily "He may whack me if 'e likes, it don't matter, you shan't be 'ungry if I can 'elp it.

Is father indoors?"

"Yes," said Willie, beginning to cry, "and I'm so frightened.

'E 'it me this morning. I dunno what's the matter. 'E's been awful angry all day, and now 'e'll beat you. Oh, dear! oh, dear!"

Bob's face flushed, and he clenched his hands. For himself he didn't care, but he did care when anything hurt Willie. He couldn't stand that, and he wouldn't. He sat still for a moment lost in thought. At last he sprang up, saying:---"Come on, Willie, we won't go 'ome to-night, we'll find somewhere to sleep. Father shan't 'it yer again. We'll go right away."

Willie got up willingly. He had implicit faith in his brother.

Whatever Bob said or did was sure to be right. He followed him without a word as Bob led the way up one street and down another, till his little legs began to ache. But it didn't seem as though they could stop, for every time they sat down on a doorstep the policeman came and told them to "Move on!" At last Bob turned into the park, and they sat down under a tree, when Willie soon fell fast asleep. Bob laid the tired little head against his shoulder, and although he became cramped with sitting so long in one position, he would not move for fear of waking him.

As he sat there he naturally began to think. What were they going to do?

Whatever happened he would take care of Willie. He would have to find another crossing, and Willie would have to go with him. At any rate they would always be together, and n.o.body should hit Willie again. He knew his father wouldn't come to look for them. He would be only too glad to be rid of them. Were all fathers like his? he wondered. He didn't think so, because he had seen some children running along by the side of their father, and they even laughed and looked as though they were glad.

_He_ laughed sometimes at some of the queer things Willie said, but he never laughed if his father was there. No, they couldn't all be alike.

As he sat there thinking, it had become quite dark, and presently he heard the park-keeper calling, "All out!" Very gently he roused the little sleeper, and again they trudged along, on and on, till at last they found themselves at Covent Garden Market, and there Bob resolve to stay for the night. They crept into an empty barrel, and locked in each other's arms they were soon fast asleep.

CHAPTER II

A FRIEND IN NEED

The two boys were awake early next for business begins early in Covent Garden, and they soon had to leave the shelter of their barrel, for barrels had to be used for other purposes than to serve as bedrooms for little boys. Besides, Bob felt that he had no time now that he had Willie to provide for.

"Come, Willie," he said, "we must have a wash the fust thing, and then we must earn some money to buy our breakfast with."

"Why, where can we wash?" asked Willie.

"Oh, I know a fust-rate place," answered Rob. "I think it was just made for boys like you and me wot ain't got no 'ome."

Willie placed his hand in his brother's, and off the two boys ran, until they reached Trafalgar Square. Willie shouted with glee at the sight of so much water. Never had he enjoyed himself so much as he did that morning as he splashed about in the water, and never had he felt so clean as he did when he had finished.

"Now," said Bob, "jist you run up and down 'ere as fast as you can; yer'll soon dry."

Willie did as he was told, and soon felt dry and quite hungry; but he was a thoughtful little fellow, and determined to wait bravely until Bob could get something for him to eat.

"Are yer dry, Willie?" asked Bob.

"Should jist think I am," replied Willie; "feel me."

"Come on, then; let's go and see if we can find some work.

Ain't yer 'ungry?"

"Little." said Willie briefly.

Dame Fortune was kind to these poor little waifs this morning, for they had not gone far on their travels when Willie's sharp eye spied something on the ground. Eagerly he ran forward, and picked up a small silver coin, which he held up with high glee for his brother to see.

"Why, Willie," exclaimed Bob, "you are lucky! That's a real silver sixpence. Now you shall have a jolly good breakfast."

"Oh, yes," said Willie, "I am 'ungry. Ain't yer Bob?"

With light hearts the two boys went on, talking eagerly as to how the sixpence should be spent. To these two poor little street arabs it seemed almost unlimited wealth, for never in their short lives had they had so much money to spend. Bob was determined to give Willie a treat, so, without saying where they were going, he led the way to St. James's Park, where they found a man in charge of a stall, with a cow standing near by.

With a very important air Bob marched up to the man, and asked for two gla.s.ses of milk. The man looked at them rather suspiciously.

In their ragged clothes they looked very different from most of the people who came to buy milk.