Chapter 3 Tom, Pepper, and Trusty by L. T. Meade
TOM AT WORK
Early the next morning, long before Pepper was awake, Tom got up, washed his face and hands in the old cracked hand-basin in one corner of the room,laid a small fire in the grate, and put some matches near it, ready forPepper to strike when he chose to rise. These preparations concluded, hethrust his hands into his ragged trousers pocket and pulled from then cetwopence and a halfpenny. The pence he laid on the three-legged stool, bythe side of the matches, the halfpenny he put for safety into his mouth.Then, with a nod of farewell at the sleeping Pepper, and a pat of Trusty'shead, he shouldered his broom and ran downstairs. The month was January,and at this early hour, for it was not yet eight o'clock, the outside world gave to the little sweeper no warm welcome. There was a fog and thaw, andTom, though he ran and whistled and blew his hot breath against his coldfingers, could not get himself warm. With his halfpenny he bought himself acup of steaming coffee at the first coffee-stall he came to, then he ran tohis crossing, and began to sweep away with all the good-will in the world.
The day, dismal as it was, promised to be a good one for his trade, and Tomhoped to have a fine harvest to carry home to Pepper and Trusty to-night.This thought made his bright face look still brighter. Perhaps, in allLondon, there was not to be found a braver boy than this littlecrossing-sweeper. He was only twelve years old, but he had family cares onhis young shoulders. For six months now--ever since his mother's death--hehad managed, he scarcely himself knew how, to keep a home for his littlebrother, the old dog, and himself. He had proudly resolved thatPepper--poor little tender Pepper--should never see the inside of aworkhouse. As long as he had hands, and wit, and strength, Pepper shouldlive with him. Not for worlds would he allow himself to be parted from hislittle brother. In some wonderful way he kept his resolve. Pepper certainlygrew very white, and weak, and thin; old Trusty's ribs stuck out more andmore, his one remaining eye looked more longingly every day at the morselof food with which he was provided; and Tom himself knew but too well whathunger was. Still they, none of them, quite died of starvation; and therent of the attic in which they lived was paid week by week. This state ofthings had gone on for months, Tom just managing, by the most intenseindustry, to keep all their heads above water. As he swept away now at hiscrossing, his thoughts were busy, and his thoughts, poor brave little boy!were anxious ones.
How very ill Pepper was beginning to look, and how strangely he had spokenthe night before about Trusty! Was it possible that his poor life ofsemi-starvation was beginning to tell not only on Pepper's weak body, buton his kind heart? Was Tom, while working almost beyond his strength, inreality only doing harm by keeping Pepper out of the workhouse? Would thatdreadful workhouse after all be the best place for Pepper? and would hisfine brave spirit revive again if he had enough food and warmth? Thesequestions passed often through Tom's mind as he swept his crossing, but hehad another thought which engrossed him even more. He had spokenconfidently to Pepper about his ability to pay the tax for Trusty when thetime came round, but in reality he had great anxiety on that point. Thetime when Trusty's tax would be due was still three months away--but threemonths would not be long going by, and Tom had not a penny--not a farthingtoward the large sum which must then be demanded of him. It was beginningto rest like a nightmare on his bright spirit, the fact that he might haveto break his word to his dying mother, that in three months' time the dearold dog might have to go. After all, he, not Pepper, might be the onefaithless to their dear old Trusty.
As he swept and cleaned the road so thoroughly that the finest lady mightpass by without a speck on her dainty boots, he resolved, suffer whathunger he might, to put by one halfpenny a day toward the necessary moneywhich much be paid to save Trusty's life. With this resolve bright in hiseyes and firm on his rosy lips, he touched his cap to many a passer-by. Butwhat ailed the men and women, the boys and girls, who walked quickly overTom's clean crossing? They were all either too busy, or too happy, or toocareless, to throw a coin, even the smallest coin, to the hungry,industrious little fellow. His luck was all against him; not a halfpennydid he earn. No one read his story in his eyes, no one saw the invisiblearms of Pepper round his neck, nor felt the melting gaze of Trusty fixed onhis face. No one knew that he was working for them as well as for himself.By noon the wind again changed and fresh snow began to fall.
Tom knew that now his chance was worse than ever, for surely now no onewould stop to pull out a penny or a halfpenny--the cold was much toointense. Tom knew by instinct that nothing makes people so selfish asintense cold.
When he left home that morning he had only a halfpenny in his pocket,consequently he could get himself no better breakfast than a small cup ofcoffee. The cold, and the exercise he had been going through since earlymorning, had raised his healthy appetite to a ravenous pitch, and this,joined to his anxiety, induced him at last to depart from his invariablecustom of simply touching his cap, and made him raise an imploring voice,to beseech for the coins which he had honestly earned.
"Please, sir, I'm h'awful cold and 'ungry--give us a penny--do, for pity'ssake," he said, addressing an elderly gentleman who was hurrying quickly tohis home in a square close by.
Would the gentleman stop, pause, look at him? Would he slacken his pace theleast morsel in the world, or would he pass quickly on like those cross oldladies whom he had last addressed? His heart, began to beat a trifle morehopefully, for the old gentleman certainly did pause, pushed back his hat,and gave him--not a penny, but a quick, sharp glance from under two shaggy brows.
"I hate giving to beggars," he muttered, preparing to hurry off again. But Tom was not to be so easily repressed.
"Please, sir, I ain't a beggar. I works real 'ard, and I'm h'awful 'ungry,please, sir."
He was now following the old gentleman, who was walking on, but slowly, andas though meditating with himself.
"That's a likely story!" he said, throwing his words contemptuously at poor Tom: "you, hungry! go and feed. You have your pocket full of pennies thismoment, which folks threw to you for doing nothing. I hate that idle work."
"Oh! h'indeed, sir, I ain't nothink in 'em--look, please, sir."
A very soiled pocket, attached to a ragged trouser, was turned out for theold gentleman's benefit.
"You have 'em in your mouth," replied the man. "I'm up to some of yourdodges."
At this remark Tom grinned from ear to ear. His teeth were white andregular. They gleamed in his pretty mouth like little pearls; thus theheart-whole smile he threw up at the old gentleman did more for him thanall the tears in the world.
"Well, little fellow," he said, smiling back, for he could not helphimself, "'tis much too cold now to pull out my purse--for I know you havepence about you--but if you like to call at my house to-morrowmorning,--Russell Square, you shall have a penny."
"Please, sir, mayn't I call to-day?"
"No, I shan't be home until ten o'clock this evening."
"Give us a penny, please, now, sir, for I'm real, real 'ungry." This timepoor Tom very nearly cried.
"Well, well! what a troublesome, pertinacious boy! I suppose I'd better getrid of him--see, here goes----"
He pulled his purse out of his pocket--how Tom hoped he would give himtwopence!
"There, boy. Oh, I can't, I say. I have no smaller change than a shilling.I can't help you, boy; I have not got a penny."
"Please, please, sir, let me run and fetch the the change."
"Well, I like that! How do I know that you won't keep the whole shilling?"
"Indeed, yer may trust me, sir. Indeed, I'll bring the eleven-penceto--Russell Square to-morrer mornin'."
The old gentleman half-smiled, and again Tom showed his white teeth. Ifthere was any honesty left in the world it surely dwelt in that anxious,pleading face. The old gentleman, looking down at it, suddenly felt hisheart beginning to thaw and his interest to be aroused.
"Oh, yes; I'm the greatest, biggest fool in the world. Still--No, I won't;I hate being taken in; and yet he's a pleasan
t little chap. Well, I'll tryit, just as an experiment. See here, young 'un; if I trust you with myshilling, when am I to see the change?"
"At eight o'clock to-morrer mornin', sir."
"Well, I'm going to trust you. I never trusted a crossing-sweeper before."
"H'all right, sir," answered Tom, taking off his cap and throwing back hishead.
"There, then, you may spend twopence; bring me back tenpence. God blessme, what a fool I am!" as he hurried away.
This was not the only favor Tom got that day; but soon the lamps were lighted, sleet and rain began to fall, and no more business could be expected.