|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 9
The next instant there came a pattering of little feet and two small
figures scrambled into the vacant seat in front of Redmond. His gaze
fell on a diminutive, red-headed, inquisitive-faced urchin of some eight
years, and a small, gray-eyed, wistful-looking maiden, perhaps about a
year younger, with hair that matched the boy's in colour. Under one
dimpled arm she clutched tightly to her--upside-down--a fat, squirming
fox-terrier puppy. Hand-in-hand, in an attitude of breathless,
speculative awe, they sat there bolt upright, like two small gophers;
watching intently the face of the uniformed representative of the Law, as
if seeking some reassuring sign.
It came presently--a kind, boyish, friendly smile that gained the
confidence of their little hearts at once.
"Hullo, nippers!" he said cheerily.
"Hullo!" the two small trebles responded.
"What's your name, son?"
"Jerry!"
"Jerry what?"
An uneasy wriggle and a moment's hesitation then--"Jeremiah!" came a
small--rather sulky--voice.
Breathing audibly in her intense eagerness the little girl now came to
the rescue.
"Please, policeman?" she stopped and gulped excitedly--"please,
policeman?--he doesn't like to be called that. . . . It isn't _his_
fault. He always throws stones at the bad boys when they call him that.
Call him just 'Jerry.'"
That gamin, turning from a minute examination of Redmond's spurred
moccasins, began to swing his chubby legs and bounce up and down upon the
cushioned seat.
"Her name's Alice," he volunteered, with a sidelong fling of his
carrot-tinted head. "Yes! she's my sister"--he made a snatch at the pup
whose speedy demise was threatened, from blood to the head--"don't hold
Porkey that way, Alice! his eyes'll drop out."
But his juvenile confrere shrugged away from his clutch. "Stupid!" she
retorted, with fine scorn, "no they won't . . . . it's on'y guinea pigs
that do that!--when you hold them up by their tails." Nevertheless she
promptly reversed that long-suffering canine, which immediately
demonstrated its gratitude by licking her face effusively.
The all-important question of the hobo was next commended to his
attention, with a tremendous amount of chattering rivalry, and, with
intense gravity he was cogitating how to render a satisfactory finding to
both factions when steps, and the unmistakable rustle of skirts, sounded
in his immediate rear. Then a lady's voice said, "Oh, there you are,
children! . . . I was wondering where you'd got to."
The two heads bobbed up simultaneously, with a joyful "Here's Mother!"
and George, turning, glanced with innate, well-bred curiosity at a stout,
pleasant-faced, middle-aged woman who stood beside them.
"I hope these young imps haven't been bothering you?" she said. "We were
in that car behind, but I was reading and they've been having a great
time romping all over the place. Oh, well! I suppose it's too much to
expect children to keep still on a train."
With a fond motherly caress she patted the two small flaming heads that
now snuggled boisterously against her on either side.
"Come now! Messrs. Bubble and Squeak!" she urged teasingly,
"march!--back to our car again!"
"Bubble and Squeak" seemed appropriate enough just then, to judge by the
many fractious objections immediately voiced by those two small
mutineers. They were loth to part with their latest acquaintance and
weren't above advertising that fact with unnecessary vehemence. Even the
puppy raised a snuffling whine.
"Boo-hoo!" wailed Jerry, "don't want to go in the other car--me an' Alice
want to stay here--the policeman's goin' to tell us all about
hoboes--he--"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|