As Diamond returned, he drew up at a stand he had never been on before: it was time to give Diamond his bag of chopped beans and oats. The men got about him, and began to chaff him. He took it all good-humouredly, until one of them, who was an ill-conditioned fellow, began to tease old Diamond by poking him roughly in the ribs, and making general game of him. That he could not bear, and the tears came in his eyes. He undid the nose-bag, put it in the boot, and was just going to mount and drive away, when the fellow interfered, and would not let him get up. Diamond endeavoured to persuade him, and was very civil, but he would have his fun out of him, as he said. In a few minutes a group of idle boys had assembled, and Diamond found himself in a very uncomfortable position. Another cab drew up at the stand, and the driver got off and approached the assemblage. “What's up here?” he asked, and Diamond knew the voice. It was that of the drunken cabman. “Do you see this young oyster? He pretends to drive a cab,” said his enemy. “Yes, I do see him. And I sees you too. You'd better leave him alone. He ain't no oyster. He's a angel come down on his own business. You be off, or I'll be nearer you than quite agreeable.” The drunken cabman was a tall, stout man, who did not look one to take liberties with. “Oh! if he's a friend of yours,” said the other, drawing back. Diamond got out the nose-bag again. Old Diamond should have his feed out now. “Yes, he is a friend o' mine. One o' the best I ever had. It's a pity he ain't a friend o' yourn. You'd be the better for it, but it ain't no fault of hisn.” When Diamond went home at night, he carried with him one pound one shilling and sixpence, besides a few coppers extra, which had followed some of the fares. His mother had got very anxious indeed--so much so that she was almost afraid, when she did hear the sound of his cab, to go and look, lest she should be yet again disappointed, and should break down before her husband. But there was the old horse, and there was the cab all right, and there was Diamond in the box, his pale face looking triumphant as a full moon in the twilight. When he drew up at the stable-door, Jack came out, and after a good many friendly questions and congratulations, said: “You go in to your mother, Diamond. I'll put up the old 'oss. I'll take care on him. He do deserve some small attention, he do.” “Thank you, Jack,” said Diamond, and bounded into the house, and into the arms of his mother, who was waiting him at the top of the stair. The poor, anxious woman led him into his own room, sat down on his bed, took him on her lap as if he had been a baby, and cried. “How's father?” asked Diamond, almost afraid to ask. “Better, my child,” she answered, “but uneasy about you, my dear.” “Didn't you tell him I was the early bird gone out to catch the worm?” “That was what put it in your head, was it, you monkey?” said his mother, beginning to get better.