Tom ducked his head, without in the least knowing what Robert Truefit meant--and not caring either. His great anxiety was, to get away now that he had as much as was likely to be given to him. Blade-o'-Grass shared his anxiety. The gift of the food was such a splendid one--there really was a large quantity of meat left on the joint--that she feared it was only given to them 'out of a lark,' as she would have expressed it, and that it would be taken from them presently. A premonition was upon her, that she would be hungry to-morrow. The children stood in painful suspense before the grown-up persons. Their anxiety to be dismissed was so great, that they threw restless glances around them, and shuffled uneasily with their feet. But Mr. Merrywhistle had something to say first. He had great difficulty in commencing, however. He coughed, and hesitated, and almost blushed, and looked at Jimmy Virtue in a shame-faced kind of way. 'The other day,' at length he commenced, addressing himself to Tom Beadle, 'when I saw you and Blade-o'-Grass on the Royal Exchange----' Tom, in the most unblushing manner, was about to asseverate, upon his soul and body, that he was not near the Royal Exchange, when Jimmy Virtue's warning finger, and Jimmy Virtue's ominous eye, stopped the lie on his lips. '----On the Royal Exchange,' continued Mr. Merrywhistle, 'and gave you--a--a shilling, were you really ill, as you seemed to me to be?' A look of triumphant delight flashed into Tom Beadle's eyes. 'Did I. do it well, sir? he cried, nudging Blade-o'-Grass. 'Did I look as if I was a-dyin' by inches?' Mr. Merrywhistle winced, as if he had received a blow. 'O, Tom, Tom!' he exclaimed gently, 'are you not ashamed of yourself?' 'No,' answered Tom, without hesitation, his manner instantly changing. Blade-o'-Grass perceiving, with her quick instinct, that something was wrong, and that Tom was likely to get into disgrace because he had made the gentleman believe that he was dying by inches, stepped forward chivalrously to the rescue. 'If you please, sir,' she said, 'you mus'n't blame Tom. It was all along o' me he did it.' Thereupon the following colloquy took place: ROBERT TRUEFIT. Bravo, Blade-o'-Grass! Mr. MERRYWHISTLE [_only too ready to receive justification_]. Come here, child. How was it all along of you? TOM BEADLE [_taking moral shelter behind Blade-o'-Grass_]. Tell the gent the truth, Bladergrass; he won't 'urt you. Tell him about the tiger. Mr. MERRYWHISTLE [_in amazement_]. The tiger! BLADE-O'-GRASS [_gravely_]. Yes, sir; I got a tiger in my inside. Mr. MERRYWHISTLE. Who on earth put such a monstrous idea into the child's head? BLADE-O'-GRASS. Mr. Wirtue knows all about it, and so does all the others in Stoney-alley. JIMMY VIRTUE [_nodding gravely in confirmation_]. Yes, she's got a tiger. Tell the gentleman what it does to you, Blade-o'-Grass.