Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Grandparents -- Juvenile fiction
She put in her head again to warn the children not to try to speak to
Tim, and if they must speak to each other to do so in a whisper.
But at first their hearts seemed too full to speak. They just sat with
their arms round each other, too bewildered and almost stunned with the
good news to take it in.
"Bruvver," said Pamela at last, "don't you fink it's because us has said
our prayers such many many times?"
"P'raps," replied Duke.
"And you _don't_ fink now what--you know what you said about Grandpapa
and Grandmamma," said Pamela, her voice faltering.
Duke hesitated. He was not quite generous enough to own that his gloomy
prophecies had been a good deal the result of his being tired and cross
and contradictory. In his heart he had no misgiving such as he had
expressed to Pamela--he had no idea that what he had said might really
have been true.
"You _don't_ fink so, bruvver?" persisted Pam.
"I daresay if us goes back very soon it'll make them better even if they
are very ill. I think us had better put that in our prayers too--for us
to get back to them so quick that there won't be time for them to get
very ill. I wouldn't mind them being just a _little_ ill, would you,
sister? It'd be so nice to see them getting better."
"I'd _rather_ they wasn't ill at all," said Pamela, "but I daresay
God'll understand. Oh I _wish_ it was to-morrow! don't you, bruvver?"
"Hush," said Duke. "Diana said us mustn't talk loud--and see, sister,
they're going to put the horse in and go on again. Oh how tired I am of
going along shaking like this all day! And don't you remember, sister,
when us was little us used to think it would be _so_ nice to live in a
cart like a house, like this?"
"Us never thought how _nugly_ it would be inside," said Pamela, glancing
round the little square space in which they were with great
dissatisfaction. And no wonder--the waggon was stuffed with bundles and
packages of all shapes and sizes; on the sides hung dirty coats and
cloaks belonging to some of the tribe, and the only pleasant object to
be seen was a heap of nice clean-looking baskets and brooms, which had
been brought in here, as the basket-cart was already filled to
overflowing. For the gipsies expected to do a good trade in these things
at the Crookford fair.
"I wish Diana would give us one of these nice baskets to take home--a
present to Grandmamma," continued Pamela, as her glance fell upon them.
"You're very silly, sister," said Duke. "Don't you understand that us is
going to _run away_, like Tim has always been wanting. And Diana's going
to help us to run away. Mick mustn't know and nobody, not till us is too
far for them to catch us. I think it's a great pity Diana told you;
you're too little to understand."
"I'm as big as you, bruvver, and my birfday's the same. You're very
unkind to say I'm littler than you, and I _do_ understand."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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