“Dear grandfather,” said Nelly, “this place is very pretty, and I feel as if laid down on this grass all the cares and troubles we brought with us; never to take them up again.”
“No never to return, never to return” replied the old man, waving his hand towards the city. “You and I are free of it now, Nell.”
“Are you tired?” said the child, “are you sure you don’t feel ill from this long walk?”
“I shall never feel ill again, now that we are once away,” was his reply. “Let us go, Nell. We must be further away a long, long way further. We are too near to stop[35], and be at rest. Come!”
There was a pool of clear water in the field, in which the child laved her hands and face, and cooled her feet. She refreshed the old man too, cast the water on him with her hands, and dried it with her simple dress.
“I can do nothing for myself, my darling,” said the grandfather; “I don’t know how it is, I could once, but the time’s gone. Don’t leave me, Nell; say that you’ll not leave me. I love you, indeed I do. If I lose you, my dear, I must die!”
He laid his head upon her shoulder and moaned piteously. She soothed him with gentle and tender words. He was soon calmed and fell asleep, singing to himself in a low voice, like a little child.
He awoke refreshed, and they continued their journey. The road was pleasant, lying between beautiful pastures and fields of corn. They were now in the open country; the houses were very few and scattered at long intervals, often miles apart.
15
The sun was setting when they reached the wicket-gate[36] at which the path began. The church was old and grey, with ivy clinging to the walls, and round the porch. The old man and the child passed behind the church, and they heard voices near.
Two men were seated upon the grass. It was not difficult to divine that they were showmen exhibitors[37] of the freaks of Punch[38]. Upon a tombstone behind them, was a figure of that hero himself.
The men raised their eyes when the old man and his young companion were close upon them, and pausing in their work, returned their looks of curiosity. One of them was a little merry-faced man with a twinkling eye and a red nose. The other that was he who took the money had rather a careful and cautious look.
The merry man was the first to greet the strangers with a nod. He observed that perhaps that was the first time the old man had ever seen a Punch off the stage[39].
“Why did you come here?” said the old man, sitting down beside them, and looking at the figures with extreme delight.
“You see,” rejoined the little man, “we need to repair our puppets.”
“Good!” said the old man, touching one of the puppets, and drawing away his hand with a shrill laugh. “Are you going to show them tonight? Are you?”
“That is the intention, sir,” replied the other, “and Tommy Codlin[40] is calculating at this minute how much we’re going to get tonight.”
The little man accompanied these latter words with a wink.
To this Mr. Codlin, who had a surly, grumbling manner, replied: “Look here; here’s all this Judy’s[41] clothes falling to pieces again. You haven’t got a needle and thread I suppose?”
The little man shook his head. Seeing that they were at a loss, the child said timidly: “I have a needle, sir, in my basket, and thread too. Will you let me try to mend it for you? I think I could do it neater than you could.”
Mr. Codlin had nothing to urge against this proposal. Nelly, kneeling down beside the box, was soon busily engaged in her task. The merry little man looked at her with an interest. When she had finished her work he thanked her, and inquired where they were travelling.
“No further tonight, I think,” said the child, looking towards her grandfather.
“If you’re looking for a place to stop at,” the man remarked, “I can advise you to take up[42] at the same house with us. That’s it. The long, low, white house there. It’s very cheap.”
They all rose and walked away together. The old man was keeping close to the box of puppets in which he was quite absorbed.
The public-house was kept by a fat old landlord and landlady who made no objection to receiving their new guests, but praised Nelly’s beauty. The landlady was very much astonished to learn that they had come all the way from London.
“These two gentlemen have ordered supper in an hour’s time,” she said, taking her into the bar; “and your best plan will be to sup with them.”
The Punch and Judy performance was applauded to the echo, and voluntary contributions showed the general delight. Among the laughter none was more loud and frequent than the old man’s. Nell’s was unheard, for she, poor child, with her head drooping on his shoulder, had fallen asleep.
The supper was very good, but she was too tired to eat, and yet did not want to leave the old man until she had kissed him in his bed. It was but a loft partitioned into two compartments, where they were to rest, but they were well pleased with their lodging and had hoped for none so good[43]. The old man was uneasy when he had lain down, and begged that Nell would come and sit at his bedside as she had done for so many nights. She hastened to him, and sat there till he slept.
She had a little money, but it was very little, and when that was gone, they must begin to beg. There was one piece of gold among it, and it would be best to hide this coin. She sewed the piece of gold into her dress[44], and went to bed with a lighter heart.
16
Another bright day awoke her. The old man woke up and dressed. They all sat down to eat together.
“And where are you going today?” said the little man.
“Indeed I hardly know, we have not determined yet,” replied the child.
“We’re going on to the races,” said the little man. “If that’s your way and you like to have us for company, let us travel together.”
“We’ll go with you,” said the old man. “Nell, with them, with them.”
The real name of the little man was Harris[45], but everybody called him Trotters[46], which, with the prefatory adjective, Short, showed the small size of his legs. So Short Trotters[47] was used in formal conversations and on occasions of ceremony[48].
The breakfast was over, and Mr. Codlin called the bill. They took farewell of the landlord and landlady and resumed their journey.
Mr. Codlin trudged heavily on[49],