'Lisbeth said to herself: "Who knows but we shall go to-day or
to-morrow, if mother gets the money; she said she would go when she got
the money."
'Lisbeth had found something to do at last.
Gorham had gone with the mother to help carry her parcel, and Dickon was
playing outside. Dickon's two feet had come in, but they had gone out
again. They so often went out after they had come in that this was
nothing uncommon. At first 'Lisbeth did not care about it; it made no
difference to her that they had gone out, she began work by herself. She
was a fast worker, an earnest worker, a worker who made things fly when
she set about making them fly. I do not mean that she made them really
fly up with wings, but she made them get from one place to another so
fast that we may say she made them fly.
She made the dishes fly out of the closets; the platters, the pots, and
the patty pans; the stewpans, and spiders, and skillets; the boilers
and broilers, and dippers; the glass jars, the stone jars, the basins;
the boxes and bundles and baskets; a pretty job she was making of it,
and, in the middle of it all, her face shone like a young sun, she was
so delightfully busy.
Suddenly 'Lisbeth remembered that she was working very hard, that Dickon
was not working hard, that he was doing nothing but playing on the
stairs; this was not pleasant to remember.
"Do come here, Dickon," called 'Lisbeth, over the railing, and Dickon
came.
"Pull down everything very fast," commanded 'Lisbeth; "mother is going
from London dreadful quick, the minute she gets the money; I shall pack
things and get ready."
Dickon did not like to pull them down; he did not approve of packing, he
wanted to play.
"You are a miserable boy, Dickon, worse than most any boy to leave me
here by my lone self."
Dickon looked around and began to think so too.
"P'haps mother don't want to be packed."
"Yes, she does; she does very much indeed; bring the things here,
Dickon; pull'm all down here."
Dickon did not like to pull them down; he was not sure even yet that
mother wanted to be packed.
"Pile'm down, Dickon!" commanded 'Lisbeth, and Dickon piled them down.
"Hadn't you better fix some before you get more?"
"I'll fix 'm when I get 'm all down here."
"What? are you going to get all the dishes and--"
"Go on I tell you, Dickon Lillibun! will you go on?"
Dickon went on; so did 'Lisbeth.
There was no place to walk, there was no place to sit down, there was
scarcely place to stand; there was no place to put anything, there was
scarcely anything more to put. Everything was pulled out, and heaped
about, and 'Lisbeth stood in the middle of them.
"Now, Dickon, this does look like doing something, don't it?"
Dickon thought it did, Dickon capered over everything and started for
the door.
"Do not go!" commanded 'Lisbeth. "Do not go! do not dare to go!"
But Dickon was gone.
"Dickon!" called 'Lisbeth over the railings, "Dickon!" But Dickon was
out of sight and hearing.
"Oh that dreadful Dickon!" moaned 'Lisbeth, as she fluttered down the
stairs to bring him back.
Had Dickon never stopped work, had Dickon never run away, had 'Lisbeth
never fluttered after him, things might have been different. I say they
might have been, because, as I explained before, nobody could be quite
sure as to what might or might not have been concerning 'Lisbeth; I say
therefore that they might have been different. As it was Dickon did run
away, and 'Lisbeth did flutter after him, and, as she went, she thought
of a plan she had not been able to think of while sitting on the
three-legged stool with her face to the wall--she thought of a plan to
get money.
'Lisbeth forgot that she was fluttering after Dickon; she forgot that
Dickon had gone at all; she forgot everything but that she had thought
of a plan to get money. She forgot about Dickon, but kept on running
faster and faster until she was red in the face and out of breath.
"Please, sir," said 'Lisbeth, gasping for breath, and rushing up to a
little spare man in a little spare coat, who lived in the dirty old
cellar of the sixth house from 'Lisbeth's, and bought paper and rags;
"please, sir, come dreadful quick!"
"How?" screamed the little man; "how?"
He meant to say "What for? please tell me what is the matter?" but he
said "How?"
"With your feet! Fast, dreadful fast," gasped 'Lisbeth. No wonder she
gasped for breath, she had come faster and faster from the top of the
house to the cellar of the sixth house below, without even taking time
to think; she did not stop afterward to think.
"My feet? My feet?"
"Please to come! oh, please to come!" pleaded 'Lisbeth, fairly dancing
up and down.
"My hat, my hat! oh, my hat!" pleaded the little man, turning and
twisting all about; "my hat! my hat!"
"Please to come! never mind no hat!" begged 'Lisbeth, half going, half
staying, and still trying to catch her breath.
"Oh, my head, my head!" almost sobbed the little man, holding his two
hands over his head as he ran after 'Lisbeth, going faster and faster
with every step.
"My! my! oh my!" gasped the poor little man, still holding his head with
his two hands, and taking hard, short breaths, as he went up one flight
of stairs after another, and bobbed himself forward to try to catch a
glimpse of 'Lisbeth and see that he was really following the right way
and getting in the right door.
"My! my! oh my!"
He said it over again when he had bobbed his head in the right door.
"Vat has happened? vat has happened? oh my! my! vat has happened?"
"It has not happened at all; it would a' happened if you had waited for
a hat."
"Vat? vat?--my! my! my!--vat?"
"Mother would a' come, and then she mightn't let me sold her pots and
kettles and dishes 'stead of packing 'm up," said 'Lisbeth, puffing hard
for breath. "Please to buy 'm quicker 'n anything."
The little man did not choke; he only looked as if he was going to.
'Lisbeth flew toward him and gave him a crack on the back, she thought
that might do him good, but it did not help the matter at all; he
looked more like choking than ever. 'Lisbeth seized a dipper; she did
not mean to do anything unmannerly, she did not indeed, but she gave him
a mouthful of water so suddenly and quickly that the little man choked,
and perhaps it was best he should.
I shall always think it was best he should, not that the little man was
bad, or thinking about being bad, only that he was in danger of getting
to be bad if he had never been so before; he was in danger of doing a
wrong thing; in danger of buying a very great deal for a very little
price. I did not say he was bad enough to do it, only it was best he
choked, and kept choked long enough for 'Lisbeth's mother to come
tripping up stairs with a new bundle and a little money, and a light
heart, considering all things--for was she not going to begin right away
to save up and to get back to the old house, the old home, in a month or
two?
As the little man stayed choked until after 'Lisbeth's mother had
tripped to the door, and tossed away her bundle, and held up her hands,
and implored to be told what was the matter, I shall never be able to
say certainly that he was an honest little man, but I shall always
believe that he was, and that it had been the thought of so much
wickedness that almost choked him before he had the crack on the back or
the mouthful from the dipper. You would have choked, or almost choked,
of course you would. The astonishing part was that 'Lisbeth did not
choke herself, but she never thought of such a thing, she only said,
when her mother asked her what was the matter, "Nothing's the matter at
all; but I'm most dreadful sorry you come just at this important minute;
I was going to s'prise you with some cash straight off short, and the
man must just fall to choking before I could get a living thing sold."
Another surprising thing is that the mother did not choke, but she did
not. Perhaps the reason was because she did not want to; the little man
looked uncomfortable and he had been choking. At any rate she did not
choke.
If the little man had not looked so uncomfortable, and ready to get
away, the mother might have fastened the door, and shouted fire, and
armed with the tongs, and screamed for help, and startled the house,
and frightened the street, and added confusion to confusion, but she
only pulled the door open on a bigger crack to let him run out and down
the stairs, holding his hands over his head and gasping, "My! my! my! my
head!"