Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child Can Read — John Shaqi
Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child Can ReadDickens, Charles
General
Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child Can Read
Dickens, Charles
Children -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories, English
Along the uncleared course, Short led his party, sounding the brazen
trumpet and speaking in the voice of Punch; and at his heels went Thomas
Codlin, bearing the show as usual, and keeping his eye on Nell and her
grandfather, as they rather lingered in the rear. The child bore upon
her arm the little basket with her flowers, and sometimes stopped, with
timid and modest looks, to offer them at some gay carriage; but alas!
there were many bolder beggars there, gipsies who promised husbands, and
others skillful in their trade; and although some ladies smiled gently
as they shook their heads, and others cried to the gentlemen beside
them, "See what a pretty face!" they let the pretty face pass on, and
never thought that it looked tired or hungry.
There was but one lady who seemed to understand the child, and she was
one who sat alone in a handsome carriage, while two young men in dashing
clothes, who had just stepped out from it, talked and laughed loudly at
a little distance, appearing to forget her, quite. There were many
ladies all around, but they turned their backs, or looked another way,
or at the two young men (not unfavorably at _them_), and left her to
herself. The lady motioned away a gipsy woman, eager to tell her
fortune, saying that it was told already and had been for some years,
but called the child toward her, and, taking her flowers, put money into
her trembling hand, and bade her go home and keep at home.
Many a time they went up and down those long, long lines, seeing
everything but the horses and the race; when the bell rung to clear the
course, going back to rest among the carts and donkeys, and not coming
out again until the heat was over. Many a time, too, was Punch displayed
in the full glory of his humor; but all this while the eye of Thomas
Codlin was upon them, and to escape without notice was almost
impossible.
At length, late in the day, Mr. Codlin pitched the show in a spot right
in the middle of the crowd, and the Punch and Judy were surrounded by
people who were watching the performance.
Short was moving the images, and knocking them in the fury of the combat
against the sides of the show, the people were looking on with laughing
faces, and Mr. Codlin's face showed a grim smile as his roving eye
detected the hands of thieves in the crowd going into waistcoat pockets.
If Nell and her grandfather were ever to get away unseen, that was the
very moment. They seized it, and fled.
They made a path through booths and carriages and throngs of people, and
never once stopped to look behind. The bell was ringing, and the course
was cleared by the time they reached the ropes, but they dashed across
it, paying no attention to the shouts and screeching that assailed them
for breaking in it, and, creeping under the brow of the hill at a quick
pace, made for the open fields. At last they were free from Codlin and
Short.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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