SCENE--_An airless Court in a London back street._
TIME--_August._
_Jimmy_ (_aged eight, to_ FLORRIE, _aged seven_). No, I ain't
comin' to the Reckereation Groun', not jess yit, I carn't.... I'm goin'
ter wyte about 'ere till the lidy comes.... Why, 'er as is comin' to
see my Muvver 'bout sendin' me fur a fortnight in the kerntry.... Yus,
where I was larst year.... It's settled as I'm ter go agine--leastways
as _good_ as settled. My Farver 'e've sent in a happlication to the
K'mitty, and Teacher 'e sez 'e kin reckermend me, an' Mr. and Mrs.
DELVES--them as 'ad the cottidge where I went afore--they've
arst fur to 'ave me agin--so yer see, FLORRIE, it's all
_right_. On'y I carn't settle to nuffink afore I know when I'm goin',
an' about the trine an' that. Yer 'ave ter roide in a trine ter git
to the kerntry, yer know.... Wot, ain't yer never bin there?... Yer'd
wanter fawst enough if yer knoo what it was loike.... There's grorss
there, an' trees an' that.... Na-ow, a _lot_ better 'n the Reckereation
Groun'--that's all mide outer old grivestones as the deaders 'as done
wiv. There's 'ills an' bushes an' 'edges where yer can pick flowers.
...There ain't no perlice to _git_ yer locked up.... An' everyfink
smells so lovelly, kinder 'elthy like--it mikes yer feel 'ungry....
Not like sassages an' inions azackly--'tain't that sorter smell....
On'y 'ere an' there, an' yer'd 'ardly tell they _was_ shops, they kerry
'em on that quoiet.... Yer wouldn' call it poky if yer was there. Mr.
DELVES 'e _was_ a kind man, 'e was; mide me a whistle outer
a sickermore brornch, 'e did; an' Mrs. DELVES she lemme 'elp
her feed the chickings.... They 'ad a garding beyind, an' there was
rasberries an' gooseberries a growin on bushes--strite, they was--I
ain't tellin' yer no lies--an' eat as many as yer like, yer could.
An' they 'ad a dog--_Rover 'is_ nime was--'e was a koind dog, lemme
lay insoide of 'is kennel orfen, 'e would.... I'd like ter 'ave a run
over thet Common agen, too. I dessay as I shell--p'reps the d'y arter
to-morrer.... There's a pond on it, an' geese, an' they comes at yer a
stritching out their necks an' a-'i sin' thet sevidge.... Na-ow, yer've
on'y got ter walk up to 'em, an' they goes orf purtendin' they took
yer fur somebody else, an' wasn't meanin' no offence. I ain't afride
o' no geese, I ain't--nor yet LILY wasn't neither. We sor a
pig 'aving a ring put froo 'is nose one day. 'E 'ollered out like 'e
was bein' killed--but 'e wasn't. An' there was a blecksmiff's, where
they put the 'orse's shoes on red 'ot, an' the 'orse 'e never took no
notice. Me an' LILY used ter go fur long walks, all under
trees. Once she showed me a squill--"sqerl" _she_ kep' a-callin' of
it, till I tole 'er 'ow--an' it run up a tree zigzag, and jumped on
to another ever so fur. That was when we was pickin' nuts. We went a
blackberryin', too, one day.... Na-ow, there warn't nobody dead. An'
LILY.... LILY DELVES 'er nime was, b'longed to them I
was stoppin' wiv.... I didn't notice partickler.... Older nor you, an'
bigger, an' lots redder 'bout the cheeks.... She wasn't a bad sort--fur
a gal.... I dunno; I liked _all_ on 'em.... Well, there was Farmer
FURROWS, 'e was very familiar, said as 'ow I might go inter
'is horchard an' pick the happles up as was layin' there jest fur the
arskin'. An' BOB RUMBLE, 'im as druv Mr. KENNISTER
the grocer's cart, 'e used ter gimme a roide along of 'im when 'e
was tikin' round porcels an' that. We'd go along lanes that 'igh
yer couldn't see nuffink fur leaves; and once 'e druv along a Pork
with tremenjus big trees in it, an' stagses walkin' about underneath
with grite big 'orns.... Suthink like 'im as is drawed outside the
public round the corner--on'y they warn't none o' them gold. I 'speck
them gold ones is furrin.... An' the grub--we 'ad beefstike pudd'n
o' Sundays, an' as much bread an' treacle every day as ever I could
eat, an' I _was_ 'ungry when I was in the kerntry.... An' when I come
away Mrs. DELVES she gethered me a big noseguy fur to tike
'ome to Muvver--kissantimums, marigoles, an' dyliers, all sorts there
was--an' Muvver she put 'em in a jug, an' soon as ever I shet my eyes
an' sniffed, I could see that garding an' _Rover_ an' LILY as
_pline_--but they went bad, an' 'ad to be froed aw'y at larst. I shall
see 'em all agine very soon now, though, won' thet be proime, eh?...
Whatsy? 'Ere, FLORRIE, you ain't _croyin'_, are yer?... Why
don't yer arsk yer Farver if 'e won't let _you_ go.... Oh, I thought as
yer _wanted_ to go. Then what _are_ yer----?... No, I ain't gled to git
aw'y from you.... A-course I shell be gled to see 'er; but that ain't
why, it's jest----You ain't never bin in the kerntry, or you'd know 'ow
I'm feelin'.... There's the lidy comin' now. I must cut across an' 'ear
what she sez to Muvver.... Don' tike on--'tain't on'y fur a fortnight,
anyway.... Look 'ere, I got suthink for yer, FLORRIE, bought
it orf a man what 'ad a tray on 'em--its a wornut, d'yer see? Now open
it--ain't them two little choiner dolls noice, eh?... I'd rorther you
'ad it nor 'er, strite, I would!... I'll be back in a minnit.
[Illustration]