"I'm going that way myself," said the man, getting away from the wall. "We'll go back by the boat if you like. Ever been on the boat?" "No," said Dickie. "Like to?" "Don't mind if I do," said Dickie. It was very pleasant with the steamboat going along in such a hurry, pushing the water out of the way, and puffing and blowing, and something beating inside it like a giant's heart. The wind blew freshly, and the ragged man found a sheltered corner behind the funnel. It was so sheltered, and the wind had been so strong that Dickie felt sleepy. When he said, "'Ave I bin asleep?" the steamer was stopping at a pier at a strange place with trees. "Here we are!" said the man. "'Ave you been asleep? Not 'alf! Stir yourself, my man; we get off here." "Is this Deptford?" Dickie asked. And the people shoving and crushing to get off the steamer laughed when he said it. "Not exackly," said the man, "but it's all right. This 'ere's where we get off. You ain't had yer tea yet, my boy." It was the most glorious tea Dickie had ever imagined. Fried eggs and bacon--he had one egg and the man had three--bread and butter--and if the bread was thick, so was the butter--and as many cups of tea as you liked to say thank you for. When it was over the man asked Dickie if he could walk a little way, and when Dickie said he could they set out in the most friendly way side by side. "I like it very much, and thank you kindly," said Dickie presently. "And the tea and all. An' the egg. And this is the prettiest place ever I see. But I ought to be getting 'ome. I shall catch it a fair treat as it is. She was waitin' for the wood to boil the kettle when I come out." "Mother?" "Aunt. Not me real aunt. Only I calls her that." "She any good?" "Ain't bad when she's in a good temper." "That ain't what she'll be in when you gets back. Seems to me you've gone and done it, mate. Why, it's hours and hours since you and me got acquainted. Look! the sun's just going." It was, over trees more beautiful than anything Dickie had ever seen, for they were now in a country road, with green hedges and green grass growing beside it, in which little round-faced flowers grew--daisies they were--even Dickie knew that. "I got to stick it," said Dickie sadly. "I'd best be getting home." "I wouldn't go 'ome, not if I was you," said the man. "I'd go out and see the world a bit, I would." "What--me?" said Dickie. "Why not? Come, I'll make you a fair offer. Ye come alonger me an' see life! I'm a-goin' to tramp as far as Brighton and back, all alongside the sea. Ever seed the sea?" "No," said Dickie. "Oh, no--no, I never." "Well, you come alonger me. I ain't 'it yer, have I, like what yer aunt do? I give yer a ride in a pleasure boat, only you went to sleep, and I give you a tea fit for a hemperor. Ain't I?" "You 'ave that," said Dickie.