'Come, come, Jacky,' Mrs. Silver said, 'this isn't good of you. Didn't you hear the horn?' 'Yes, I 'eerd the 'orn, but I ain't a-comin',' was his confident reply. 'O Jacky, Jacky!' she remonstrated. 'I ain't a-goin' 'ome any more. I'm a-goin' to stop under this tree as long as ever I live, and I don't want to move.' [Illustration] We absolutely had to use a little force with him, and while we carried the little fellow to the vans, he cried again and again that he didn't want to go home any more. References to Old Rookey had no effect upon him; he wanted to live among the trees always, and he was passionately grieved because he could not have his way. The children sang all along the road to London; and I was glad to see that the majority of them had bunches of wild-flowers in their hands. And thus the day ended happily--for all but one. 'We shall sleep well to-night,' said Mrs. Silver, with a satisfied sigh. I did not, although I was thoroughly tired out. V. YOU'RE A PARSON, SIR, AND I PUT IT TO YOU. WHAT DO _YOU_ SAY TO PARTING MOTHER AND CHILD? It was not alone because Mr. Merrywhistle urged me that I took an interest in Blade-o'-Grass. I was impelled to do so by certain feelings of my own with reference to the poor girl. I became nervously desirous to learn her history, and I questioned Mr. Merrywhistle, He could tell me nothing, however, but the usual tale attached to such unhappy human waifs--a tale which I had heard, with slightly-varying forms of detail, many times before. I desired to learn something more definite--something which I scarcely dared to confess, even to myself, working as I was in the dark, and with only a vague impression or a morbid fancy for a basis. But then came the thought that Rachel shared the impression with me, and I continued my inquiries. 'Jimmy Virtue knows more about Blade-o'-Grass than I do,' said Mr. Merrywhistle, 'It was through him I first became acquainted with her.' Jimmy Virtue was not very communicative; it was not in his nature to take easily to new friends. 'But you yourself,' I urged, 'spoke of her mother and father as if you knew them intimately.' 'Did I?' he replied. 'Ah! I ain't over-particular what I say sometimes, so you must put it down to that. You see, they were not long in this alley afore the father cut away, and the mother--well, she died! So what should I know of 'em? The mother was buried afore the kids was three weeks old.' 'The children!' I exclaimed, my heart beating fast at this discovery. 'Then the poor mother had twins?' 'Yes, there was two on 'em; as if one warn't enough, and more than enough! And then a woman--Mrs. Manning her name was--comes round a-beggin' for the babbies, and a nice row she kicked up about it. Arksed me what I'd lend on 'em--as if babbies warn't as cheap as dirt, and a deal sight more troublesome!' 'These twins, Mr. Virtue--were they both girls?'