Part 6 (2/2)
”Will yer take yer davey?”
”Yes, if it's any satisfaction to you, Bill, I will take my davey that I do not think that they would turn me off even if they sent you away.”
”And yer really wants me to go with yer, so help yer?”
”Really and truly, Bill.”
”Wery well, George, then I goes; but mind yer, it's 'cause yer wishes me.”
So saying, Bill curled himself up in the hay, and George soon heard by his regular breathing that he was sound asleep.
The next morning, before anyone was stirring, they went down into the yard, as was their custom on Sunday mornings, for a good wash, stripping to the waist and taking it by turns to pump over each other.
Bill had at first protested against the fas.h.i.+on, saying as he did very well and did not see no use in it; but seeing that George really enjoyed it he followed his example. After a morning or two, indeed, and with the aid of a piece of soap which George had bought, Bill got himself so bright and s.h.i.+ny as to excite much sarcastic comment and remark from his former companions, which led to more than one pugilistic encounter.
That morning George remained behind in the loft for a minute or two after Bill had run down, attired only in his trousers. When Bill went up the ladder after his ablutions he began hunting about in the hay.
”What are you up to, Bill?”
”Blest if I can find my s.h.i.+rt. Here's two of yourn knocking about, but I can't see where's mine, nor my jacket neither.”
”It's no use your looking, Bill, for you won't find them, and even if you found them you couldn't put 'em on. I have torn them up.”
”Torn up my jacket!” Bill exclaimed in consternation. ”What lark are yer up to now, George?”
”No lark at all. We are going together to work to-morrow, and you could not go as you were; so you put on that s.h.i.+rt and those things,”
and he threw over the clothes he had procured the day before.
Bill looked in astonishment.
”Why, where did yer get 'em, George? I knows yer only had four bob with what we got yesterday. Yer didn't find 'em, and yer didn't--no, in course yer didn't--nip 'em.”
”No, I didn't steal them certainly,” George said, laughing. ”I swapped my Sunday clothes for them yesterday. I can do without them very well till we earn enough to get another suit. There, don't say anything about it, Bill, else I will punch your head.”
Bill stared at him with open eyes for a minute, and then threw himself down in the hay and burst into tears.
”Oh, I say, don't do that!” George exclaimed. ”What have you to cry about?”
”Aint it enough to make a cove cry,” Bill sobbed, ”to find a chap doing things for him like that? I wish I may die if I don't feel as if I should bust. It's too much, that's what it is, and it's all on one side; that's the wust of it.”
”I dare say you will make it even some time, Bill; so don't let's say anything more about it, but put on your clothes. We will have a cup of coffee each and a loaf between us for breakfast, and then we will go for a walk into the park, the same as we did last Sunday, and hear the preaching.”
The next morning they were up at their accustomed hour and arrived at the works at Limehouse before the doors were opened. Presently some men and boys arrived, the doors were opened, and the two boys followed the others in.
”Hallo! who are you?” the man at the gate asked.
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