"You ain't never done much blank work, _you_ ain't. Your dukes is same
as silk. Bin a tailor?"
"No, I have other work to do."
"All square, mate; 'tain't no business o' mine. Things is bad 'ere. The
blank, blank swine of a blank landlord, he takes pooty well 'alf of
every tanner I can make, and d----d if he'll do anything to the place."
"Smells are queer down here."
"Smell! Lord love you, come down yere to-morrer, and you'll git to know
wot stinks is. Let Teddy show you that 'ere bloomin' ditch at the back.
They calls it a stream, but I dussn't say wot I thinks it is afore the
nipper. All the dead cats and muck in the bloomin' crehation gits dumped
in there. On 'ot days you wants a nosebag on, I tell you, and no error."
"Does Teddy go to school?"
"No fear; not yet. But he's fly as they makes 'em, he is. Useful he is,
too. 'Andy as makes no matter, and he ain't no more 'n seven."
"Well, I'm coming to see Teddy and the ditch to-morrow. Will you have
another pint?"
"Right, matey; that'll do for to-morrow. Ain't you got no less 'n a
tanner? Never mind, I'll square when I'm flush."
Next day I visited the alley, and went to the gap where it opened on to
the ditch. There was an admirably efficient hotbed for rearing diseases
there. A solid bed of sewage of about two feet deep seemed to fill the
hollow, and a thin sheet of filthy water covered this bed--with sickly
breaks here and there. Ordure palpable and abominable was plentiful,
and the swollen carcasses of small animals exhaled their biting wafts.
Poor little Teddy! I said, "Come home with me, will you? Mind, you
mustn't tell anyone where I live;" and the amiable little dot set off at
my side. He could not walk very well, for he had one shoe minus a sole,
and his toes stuck through the other. When we reached my room I sent out
for a pair of boots and two pairs of socks; then I pitched Teddy's away,
and presently to his terror, and my own amusement, I found myself
engaged in washing his feet. Nice little feet they were when they came
clean, and their owner pattered about with perfect satisfaction on my
carpet. I pulled out some cakes, and Teddy accepted a few, turning away
his head as he took them. He had the exact look of a dog that is being
reproved, and I had some trouble in persuading him to begin. When he had
finished one sponge-cake he grinned and enigmatically observed, "Teddy's
belly." I said, "That's baby talk. You talked all right last night.
Finish your cakes and you'll have some more for tea. Trot about as you
like till it's ready." He went gaily about, touching some articles, and
even sniffing at others; he dived into my bedroom, and I heard him cry
"Ooh!" Then there was a scraping sound, and Teddy appeared lugging a
small looking-glass and smiling broadly. "Ooh! This is what there is
when a lady gives you a beer." I understood that he referred to the
bleared glass behind the bar of the Chequers, and I appreciated Teddy's
powers of comparison; but I explained to him that mirrors cannot be
safely hauled about by little boys, and he kindly assented to this
proposition.
We had tea, and Teddy so far improved on his bashfulness that he made
grabs at several things which would have disagreed with him if I had let
him follow his inclinations. He affably received my hints on table
etiquette, and smiled with gentleness when I told him he had eaten
enough. The little creature's ideas were like those of a dog. He had
been taught to follow and to come home to his kennel; he was ready to be
gracious toward those who fed him, and he had the true canine glance
which expresses gratitude and expectancy at once. But he was only a
rudimentary human being, and his brain power had slept so far. I showed
him Caldecott's wonderful "House that Jack Built," and he gloated over
that delightful villain of a dog; the cat and the rat he understood, but
he knew nothing of the cow. I let him stare at the dog as long as he
chose, and he chuckled like a magpie all the time. He proposed to remove
the picture-book, and it was only with difficulty that I persuaded him
to let me keep it. Knowing the street arab class very well, I did not
try to talk with him, for I have always found that an arab's curiosity
when he finds himself in a new place renders him incapable of attending
to anything that is said to him until he has learned the appearance of
every object in the room. The little chap is a barbarian, and you must
treat him exactly as you would treat an adult member of a friendly
savage tribe.
Before Teddy went home I rigged him up in his new boots and stockings,
and he was amusingly proud. When we parted at the alley he said, "You
let me go you house again, and have some nice things and see the dog?"
Of course I invited him, and henceforth he waylaid me in the afternoons
as I went home. At first he was not polite, and his mode of calling,
"Hoy, man! wait for me!" drew marked attention from the public. But he
soon learned to lift his hat and to shake hands. At intervals I gave him
set lessons on manners, and, if he behaved nicely, we had a game at
cricket in my queer old garden. It was almost impossible to make Teddy
understand the morality of any game at first. When he learned that the
ball must not touch his wicket, his treatment of my slow bowling was
positively immoral. I did not mind his kicking the ball out of the way,
nor did I object to his using his bat like a scoop; but when he lay down
in front of the wicket, and sweetly smiled as the ball touched his
stomach, I had to insist on severe cricketing etiquette. As the nights
darkened in I took to amusing myself more and more with Teddy, and
sometimes I did not go out to the Chequers at all. The boy was a severe
trial to me when he learned to play draughts. When once the fundamental
laws of the game dawned on his mind, and he understood that he must try
to reduce the number of my pieces, he thought that any means were
justified if he could be successful. Once I left the room for a minute
while we were playing, and on my return found four of my men had
disappeared. I said, "Where are those men?" Teddy smiled courteously; "I
taken 'em. I go hop, hop, hop, over a lot. All fair." "But where have
you put them?" "In a pocket. All fair." But he gradually grew out of his
habits of picking and stealing, and he behaved much like a well-trained
dog. It is plain to me that he regarded me as a sort of deity; but his
love was quite unalloyed by fear. He would stroke my beard, and say,
"You very nice," when I had been specially good-humoured, and, as his
stock of words increased, he prattled on by the hour. One must love
something, and I got into the habit of loving this pale little urchin,
so that at length I fitted up a crib for him, and asked his mother to
let him stay with me. This made a great change in my habits. Teddy
seemed to wake as by magic, if I rose to go out after he was in bed,
and, although he never cried, his way of saying, "You won't let me stop
by myself--perhaps the black man might come," always settled me. By
degrees I fell into the habit of reading at nights, and the steady life
made my brain clear. Books that had been dim memories to me for years
became vivid, and the power of sustained thinking came back. In those
long, calm evenings, I went through my Gibbon again, and the awful
pageant that rolls past our view under the direction of the aristocrat
of literature made my late life seem poor and mean. How low we were! The
darkened costers are interesting as studies in animal life; but the more
pretentious persons whose humour reaches its highest flight in an
indecent story, and whose wit consists in calling someone else a
liar--how petty they are, and how fruitless is their friendship! I began
to feel like a patrician who surveys the mob from his lordly dais, and I
almost resolved to go back to the clubs and theatres once more.
Teddy increased so much in mental power that he took interest in fairy
tales, and he was a rigorous taskmaster. I was obliged to illustrate the
stories in varied ways. Once I was asked, "What's a gian'?" I said, "A
very, very big man." "Big as you?" "Far bigger." "How bigger? Has he got
legs, and heads, and--and things like that?" "We'll see. When I stand on
this chair I'm as big as a giant," but it was all of no avail, and only
after Teddy had seen a huge, knock-kneed being in a penny show did he
understand what a giant could be like. Then he asked for giant stories
on all occasions.
It struck me that I was neglecting Teddy's religious education. Hundreds
and thousands of such little fellows in and about London have no notion
of a God, or any ruling power save the policeman. I had a dark mind to
deal with, and Teddy's questions fairly beat me. Of course I took the
old orthodox ideas, and tried to make them simple, but Teddy posed me
like this:
"Do God live in a sky?"
"Far away. Yes; well, say in the sky."
"Where does he hang up his coat when he goes to his bed?"
What on earth was a poor, distracted loafer to say? I could not deal
with Jesus, for I saw that Teddy did not understand goodness. He knew
that I was kind, and he liked to kiss my hand slily, and rub his cheek
on my knee; but abstract goodness and gentle words like those of Jesus
did not appeal to him. I was satisfied to have a queer creature that
followed me like a dog, and I am afraid that if he had lived I should
have made him a kind of heathen; but the luck was against me. Teddy's
father came on a Sunday morning, and said, "If you don't mind, his
mother'd like to 'ave him along to dinner to-morrow. We got a bit o'
pork and a horrange spesshal for him." So Teddy went home when the ditch
was in worse order than usual. He had been kept amid good air, and he
was clean--I washed him myself--and I fancy that the stenches poisoned
him simply because he could not become acclimatised to the alley again.
Anyway, he was heavy and listless when he came back, and in two days I
had to send for his father and mother. I am not going into any pathetic
details, for that is not my line. Night after night I walked the floor
with the youngster, and when the doctor said I should catch diphtheria
if I kissed him, I said I didn't care a damn, for I was wild. Then my
boy went away.
One night I was walking about the park in mad fashion while a hoarse
gale roused a deep chorus among the trees. I could have sworn that my
lad called to me. Then I went back and dropped into The Chequers. The
Ramper said, "Wot cher, yer old bugaboo?" The Wanderer shouted, "Now
let the trumpet to the kettle speak; the kettle to the cannoneer
without. He comes! He comes!"
And I went home and stayed till dawn with the Wanderer. That is the way
we live.