A STREET INCIDENT.
Before going to bed that night I wished to arrange my plans for the
next day, and to make up my mind which of the two daily-governess
situations that I had in view I would apply for first. For this
purpose I carefully compared the advertisements together to see if
either one contained anything that made it seem likely to be
preferable to the other. As, however, there did not appear to be a
pin's point to choose between them, I left the selection to chance,
and settled the question by tossing. The result of this appeal to
hazard was to decide me to try first for the place of A. G., who
required personal application to be made between noon and two o'clock
in the afternoon, at a given address somewhere in the Bayswater
district.
It was no use going there before the hour specified, and I did
not feel in the humour to settle down to any steady occupation
till it was time to start, so I spent most of the following morning
in watching what went on in the street below my window, and making
guesses as to the characters and employments of the various
passers-by. Amongst these there was one to whom my attention was
particularly attracted. This was a little girl of about nine or ten
years old, with a basket containing some bunches of common flowers
for sale. It was quite early in the morning when first I noticed her,
and afterwards I saw her pass my window again and again; for though,
at intervals, she made excursions into other neighbouring streets,
yet after each of these excursions she returned to the one wherein
my lodging was situated. At first she looked tolerably bright
and smiling as she ran here and there, making assiduous efforts
to dispose of her stock in trade. But she was not in luck's way,
and failed to sell a single bunch; and she evidently took this
ill-success greatly to heart, for all the smiles and cheerfulness
gradually died away from her face, and she looked increasingly sad
and melancholy each time that I saw her pass.
Presently a big coarse-looking woman, who was also selling flowers,
came into the street. She and the child met, and stopped to talk,
just opposite my window; and though I could not hear what they said,
yet their looks and gestures enabled me to make a very fair guess
at what they were talking about. The little girl, I could see, was
timidly asking some favour which the woman refused. The child, though
apparently much in awe of the other, yet seemed to screw up her
courage to urge the petition; evidently she desired very much to have
it granted, as I could see by the pitifully earnest wistfulness
expressed in her countenance, as she looked up with quivering lips,
and eyes brimful of tears. Whatever her request was, however, the
woman had no mind to grant it; and, seeming to become impatient at
the child's persistency, pushed her away roughly and left the street.
For a minute or so after her departure the little girl stood sobbing,
and looking a picture of disappointment and misery. Then, using the
corner of her shawl as a pocket-handkerchief, she dried her eyes,
blew her nose, and mournfully resumed her former occupation.
She did not again come in sight of my window, so I saw no more of her
till it was time for me to start on my situation-hunting expedition.
I was walking down towards Oxford Street, with my head full of my own
affairs, when I heard a shrill, quavering, little voice pipe out
close at my elbow: "Flowers, lady! bootifle fresh flowers. Won't you
please buy a bunch?" Looking down, I saw beside me the same little
girl whom I had previously been watching. The contents of her basket
were still undiminished, and she was sitting wearily on a door-step,
but now started up to offer me her wares, and try to induce me to
become a customer. Though I could do very well without flowers, yet I
liked them, and thought they would be a considerable improvement to
my dingy little lodging; besides, I pitied the child for the bad luck
she had hitherto had that morning; so altogether I had half a mind to
buy of her. But then the warning voice of prudence interfered, saying
that I had no money to waste on vanities like flowers, and that
the more I departed from my strict rule of denying myself every
superfluity, the more irksome it would be to keep to it at all. I
thought prudence was perfectly right, so I followed her counsel, and
replied to the little flower-seller; "No, thank you; I don't want
any."
She, however, was unwilling to take a refusal, and exclaimed; "Oh,
but do _please_ 'ave some, dear lady. Sitch bootifle flowers, they
be! Jest one bunch!"
I was not going to offend my inward monitor by disregarding her
advice, so I merely shook my head, and walked on.
For a few steps the child trotted beside me, continuing her
importunities, but desisted when she found I was not to be moved. I
looked back to see what she was doing when I reached the corner of
the street, and saw that she had buried her face in her shawl, and
was crying bitterly.
I was provoked at such a very unpractical proceeding; and, thinking
that at all events a word of good advice would cost me nothing to
give, and that perhaps she might be the better for it, I returned to
her, and said: "Now, you know, it's excessively silly of you to
behave like that, and you'd much better dry your eyes. You're just
as likely as not to be losing a chance of a customer while you're
crying, and you don't want to do that, do you?"
"Oh, _indeed_ but I can't 'elp crying," she replied, between her
violent sobs; "it's cos I'se so 'ungry--so dreffle 'ungry."
"What makes you so hungry?" said I. "Didn't you have enough
breakfast?"
"I 'asn't 'ad none at all," she returned. "When mother sent me out
this mornin', she said as I shouldn't 'ave no brexshus till I'd got
the money for it with these 'ere flowers; and she telled me the same
a bit ago, when I met 'er and axed 'er to let in 'ave a penny to buy
suthun to eat, cos no one wouldn't buy none of the flowers, and I was
jest starved. She sez as it's all my fault for not selling' of 'em,
and that if I wasn't idle, I could get rid of 'em fast enuff. But
that's not true, for I'se done my best--indeed I 'as!"
It really did seem a hard case. I knew, from personal observation,
that the charge of idleness was undeserved, and it was very unfair to
make the poor little thing suffer for a slackness of trade which she
could not help. To keep a growing child running about all the morning
in the open air without giving it a morsel of food to appease its
hunger till nearly twelve o'clock, was a piece of barbarity that
quite shocked me. For, however hard I may be by nature, and however
apt to drive my own barrow through the world without troubling myself
about the toes that happen to be in the way and to get pinched, yet I
do not think I have ever been guilty of gratuitous cruelty to either
man or beast; indeed, the mere sight of it always fills me with
disgust.
The mention of breakfast gave me a sudden bright idea of how to
assist the child without laying myself open to the reproaches of
prudence. Had I not saved a shilling the day before by breakfasting
at the restaurant instead of at the hotel? and was not a penny saved
a penny gained? I had never calculated on being able to begin gaining
anything as yet, so that that shilling was an addition to my funds
which I had not reckoned upon, and which I was clearly entitled to
regard as an extra--a thing that I could throw away or do what I
pleased with--an accidental item which need not be entered on my
receipts at all, so that prudence had no right to expect to be
consulted as to what was done with it. And, feeling quite certain of
the soundness of this argument, I did not wait to hear whether
prudence took the same view of the matter or not, but instantly
presented the coin to the child, recommending her to spend part of it
now in getting breakfast, and to reserve the remainder against some
future emergency.
The sight and feel of the shilling checked her tears with surprising
quickness, and her wan, melancholy, little physiognomy brightened up
wonderfully. Holding her basket towards me, she offered either to let
me pick out the best flowers for myself, or else to do it for me if I
liked; adding, with a slight hesitation, that perhaps there _might_
be one or two old flowers since yesterday that had got mixed among
this morning's lot, and if so, she would be more likely to know the
fresh ones than I should. The touch of confusion with which this was
said, made me suspect that the contents of her basket were by no
means so fresh as she professed them to be, and that she, being well
aware of that fact, was moved by an impulse of gratitude to proffer
her services as chooser in order that I might not be cheated.
Evidently it would be prudent to accept her offer if I wanted to have
anything out of her basket. But that was just what I felt rather
doubtful about doing. I had intended the shilling as a free gift, and
had had no idea of receiving anything in return; besides that, it
would be a nuisance to have a handful of flowers to carry about with
me, and they would probably have begun to fade by the time I got
home; so, altogether, I at first thought I would refuse them. On
second thoughts, however, I changed my mind. The flowers would
certainly brighten up my room, and I knew that I should like them if
I could have them transported there without trouble; and, after
all, it was just as well to have some value for one's money; and
as she took it for granted that I should do so, there would be no
disappointment to her in my having them. I said therefore--
"Will you pick me out a couple of good, fresh bunches, take them to a
house that is not far off, and leave them there, with a message that
Miss Caroline Jill wishes to have them put in water till she comes
back?"
"'Iss, lady," she answered; "I'll pick you the werry bestest and
freshest as I 'as--and thank you kindly for what you've give me.
What's the 'ouse as I'm to take 'em to?"
I gave her the address of my lodging, and then we separated; she
disappearing into the nearest baker's shop, and I continuing my way
to A. G. My experience of life had not given me enough confidence in
human nature to make me think it very likely that a street child was
to be relied upon to keep a promise; and consequently I thought it
highly problematical that I should find any flowers awaiting me on my
return. But yet I did not the least regret the shilling I had thrown
away upon her. It was a satisfaction to think that her hunger was
being appeased, at any rate; indeed, if I had not known that that had
been done, I should have exposed myself to the risk of feeling
uncomfortable whenever I thought of her ravenous condition all day.
So I had evidently acted for my own interest as well as hers.