I reads yer kindness in yer heyes, master, and so I makes
bold to tell my tale o' woe."
"Well, tell away," said Harris, who could not help laughing and looking
a little less gruff than before.
"You wouldn't be inclined, now, that we should have hour talk hover a
pint of hot coffee? There's a heatin-house where the young man have took
down the shutters and is dusting away in a manner as his real
appetizing. I has fourpence in my pocket. You wouldn't mind my treating
yer, jest fer once, would yer?"
"Not in the least, youngster. I think it'll be a wery sensible use to
put yer money to, and a deal more prudent than spending it in marbles or
street plays."
"Master, my mother don't allow me to play at marbles, or to hindulge in
street wanities, so I has the money and can afford ter be generous. Now
let's enter. I smells the coffee a-grinding hup fur hour breakfasts
halready."
So Harris and Pickles went in to the eating-house, where in a moment or
two, over two steaming cups of excellent coffee, Pickles proceeded to
unburden himself of his story.
"It is only a few days agone, master, as the occurrence as distresses me
happened. I wor walking along a certain street wot shall be nameless. I
wor walking along bravely, as is my wont, and thinking of my mother,
when I see'd a young gel a-flying past me. She wor a wery short, stout
gel, and her legs they quite waggled as she ran.
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