Household words, No. 24, September 7, 1850 : $b A weekly journal
General
Household words, No. 24, September 7, 1850 : $b A weekly journal
English literature -- Periodicals
With his lantern under his coat, Harry stole forth, and Moss stood up,
all alone in the darkness and stillness. He could hear his heart beat,
but nothing else, till footsteps on the path came nearer and nearer.
They came quite up; they came in, actually into the arbour; and then the
ducks were certainly fluttering. In an instant more, there was a gleam
of light upon the white plumage of the ducks, and then light enough to
show that this was the gipsy boy, with a dark lantern hung round his
neck, and, at the same moment, to show the gipsy boy that Moss was
there. The two boys stood, face to face, motionless from utter
amazement, and the ducks had scuttled and waddled away before they
recovered themselves. Then, Moss flew at him in a glorious passion, at
once of rage and fear.
“Leave him to me, Moss,” cried Harry, casting light upon the scene from
his lantern, while he collared the thief with the other hand. “Let go, I
say, Moss. There, now we’ll go round and be sure whether there is any
one else in the garden, and then we’ll lodge this young rogue where he
will be safe.”
Nobody was there, and they went home in the dawn, locked up the thief in
the shed, and slept through what remained of the night.
It was about Mr. Nelson’s usual time for coming down the line; and it
was observed that he now always stopped at this station till the next
train passed,—probably because it was a pleasure to him to look upon the
improvement of the place. It was no surprise therefore to Woodruffe to
see him standing on the embankment after breakfast; and it was natural
that Mr. Nelson should be immediately told that the gipsies were here
again, and how one of them was caught thieving.
“Thieving! So you found some of your property upon him, did you!”
“Why, no. I thought myself that it was a pity that Moss did not let him
alone till he had laid hold of a duck or something.”
“Pho! pho! don’t tell me you can punish the boy for theft, when you
can’t prove that he stole anything. Give him a whipping, and let him
go.”
“With all my heart. It will save me much trouble to finish off the
matter so.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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