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Brownsmith's Boy Part 32

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"You want me to come down, an' 'it you?" he cried, writhing.

"Here, give me that whip," cried Ike fiercely. "How did you come there?"

"Got up," said Shock sulkily.

"Who told you to come?"

"No one. He's come, ain't he?"

"That's no reason why you should come. Get down, you young dog!"

"Sha'n't!"

"You give's holt o' that whip, and I'll flick him down like I would a fly."

"No, no; don't hurt him, Ike," I said, laughing. "What were you making that noise for, Shock?"

"He calls that singing," cried Ike, spitting on the ground in his disgust. "He calls that singing. He's been lying on his back, howling up at the sky like a sick dog, and he calls that singing. Here, give us that whip."

"No, no, Ike; let him be."

"Yes; he'd better," cried Shock defiantly.

"Yes; I had better," cried Ike, s.n.a.t.c.hing the whip from me, and giving it a crack like the report of a gun, with the result that Basket started off, and would not stop any more.

"Come down," roared Ike.

"Sha'n't!" cried Shock. "You 'it me, and I'll cut the rope and let the baskets down."

"Come down then."

"Sha'n't! I ain't doing nothing to you."

_Crack_! went the whip again, and I saw Shock bend down.

"I'm a-cutting the cart rope," he shouted.

"Come down." _Crack_! went the whip.

Shock did not speak.

"Will he cut the rope?" I whispered.

"If he do we shall be two hours loading up again, and a lot o' things smashed," growled Ike. Then aloud:

"Are you a coming down? Get down and go home."

"Sha'n't!" came from above us; and, like a good general, Ike accepted his defeat, and climbed back to his place on the left shaft, while I took mine on the right.

"It's no good," he said in a low grumbling tone. "When he says he won't, he won't, and them ropes is the noo 'uns. He'll have to go on with us now; and I'm blest if I don't think we've lost a good ten minutes over him and his noise."

"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover," came from over our heads.

"Think o' me letting that scare me!" said Ike, giving his whip a vicious _whisk_ through the air.

"But it seemed so strange," I said.

"Ay, it did. Look yonder," he said. "That's the norrard. It looks light, don't it?"

"Yes," I said.

"Ah! it never gets no darker than that all night. You'll see that get more round to the nor-east as we gets nigher to London."

So it proved, for by degrees I saw the stars in the north-east pale; and by the time we reached Hyde Park Corner a man was busy with a light ladder putting out the lamps, and it seemed all so strange that it should be broad daylight, while, as we jolted over the paving-stones as we went farther, the light had got well round now to the east, and the daylight affected Ike, for as, after a long silence, we suddenly heard once more from the top of the baskets:

"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover!"

Ike took up the old song, and in a rough, but not unmusical voice roared out the second line:

"I've been a-travelling all the world over."

Or, as he gave it to match Do-ho-ver--"O-ho-ver." And it seemed to me that I had become a great traveller, for that was London all before me, with a long golden line above it in the sky.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

IN THE MARKET.

I could almost have fancied that there was some truth in Ike's declaration about old Basket or Bonyparty, as he called him, for certainly he seemed to quicken his pace as we drew nearer; and so it was that, as we turned into the busy market, and the horse made its way to one particular spot at the south-east corner, Ike triumphantly pointed to the church clock we had just pa.s.sed.

"What did I tell yer?" he exclaimed with a grim smile of satisfaction on his countenance; "he picked up them lost ten minutes, and here we are-- just four."

What a scene it seemed to me. The whole place packed with laden cart, wagon, and light van. Noise, confusion, and shouting, pleasant smells and evil smells--flowers and crushed cabbage; here it was peas and mint, there it was strawberries; then a whole wagon announced through the sides of its piled-up baskets that the load was cauliflowers.

For a time I could do nothing but gape and stare around at the bustling crowd and the number of men busily carrying great baskets on the top of porters' knots. Women, too, in caps, ready to put the same great pad round forehead and make it rest upon their shoulders, and bear off great boxes of fruit or baskets of vegetable.

Here I saw a complete stack of bushel baskets being regularly built up from the unloading of a wagon, to know by the scent they were early peas; a little farther on, some men seemed to be making a bastion for the defence of the market by means of gabions, which, to add to the fancy, were not filled with sand, but with large round gravel of a pale whitish-yellow, only a closer inspection showed that the contents were new potatoes.

The strawberries took my attention, though, most, for I felt quite a feeling of sorrow for Old Brownsmith as I saw what seemed to me to be such a glut of the rich red fruit that I was sure those which we had brought up would not sell.

How delicious they smelt in the old-fas.h.i.+oned pottles which we never see now--long narrow cones, with a cross-handle, over which, when filled, or supposed to be filled, for a big strawberry would block up the narrow part of the cone at times, a few leaves were placed, and then a piece of white paper was tied over with a bit of bast. Nowadays deep and shallow punnets are the order of the day, and a good thing too.

Flowers! There seemed to me enough to last London for a month; and I was going, after a look round, to tell Ike that I was afraid we should have to take our load back, when I felt a heavy thump on the back of my head, which knocked off my cap.

Nothing annoyed me more as a boy than for my cap to be knocked off.

Shock knew that, and it had been one of his favourite tricks, so that I knew, as I thought, whence this piece of annoyance had come, and, picking up the small hard cabbage that had been thrown, I determined to avenge myself by sending it back with a good aim.

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Brownsmith's Boy Part 32 summary

You're reading Brownsmith's Boy. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): George Manville Fenn. Already has 661 views.

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