CHAPTER XXI. SAL'S NANNY
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
MacDonald, George
DIAMOND managed with many blunders to read this rhyme to his mother.
“Isn't it nice, mother?” he said.
“Yes, it's pretty,” she answered.
“I think it means something,” returned Diamond.
“I'm sure I don't know what,” she said.
“I wonder if it's the same boy—yes, it must be the same—Little Boy Blue, you know. Let me see—how does that rhyme go?
Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn—
Yes, of course it is—for this one went `blowing his horn and beating his drum.' He had a drum too.
Little Boy Blue, come blow me your horn; The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
He had to keep them out, you know. But he wasn't minding his work. It goes—
Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep? He's under the haystack, fast asleep.
There, you see, mother! And then, let me see—
Who'll go and wake him? No, not I; For if I do, he'll be sure to cry.
So I suppose nobody did wake him. He was a rather cross little boy, I daresay, when woke up. And when he did wake of himself, and saw the mischief the cow had done to the corn, instead of running home to his mother, he ran away into the wood and lost himself. Don't you think that's very likely, mother?”
“I shouldn't wonder,” she answered.
“So you see he was naughty; for even when he lost himself he did not want to go home. Any of the creatures would have shown him the way if he had asked it—all but the snake. He followed the snake, you know, and he took him farther away. I suppose it was a young one of the same serpent that tempted Adam and Eve. Father was telling us about it last Sunday, you remember.”
“Bless the child!” said his mother to herself; and then added aloud, finding that Diamond did not go on, “Well, what next?”
“I don't know, mother. I'm sure there's a great deal more, but what it is I can't say. I only know that he killed the snake. I suppose that's what he had a drumstick for. He couldn't do it with his horn.”
“But surely you're not such a silly as to take it all for true, Diamond?”
“I think it must be. It looks true. That killing of the snake looks true. It's what I've got to do so often.”
His mother looked uneasy. Diamond smiled full in her face, and added—
“When baby cries and won't be happy, and when father and you talk about your troubles, I mean.”
This did little to reassure his mother; and lest my reader should have his qualms about it too, I venture to remind him once more that Diamond had been to the back of the north wind.
Finding she made no reply, Diamond went on—
“In a week or so, I shall be able to go to the tall gentleman and tell him I can read. And I'll ask him if he can help me to understand the rhyme.”
But before the week was out, he had another reason for going to Mr. Raymond.
For three days, on each of which, at one time or other, Diamond's father was on the same stand near the National Gallery, the girl was not at her crossing, and Diamond got quite anxious about her, fearing she must be ill. On the fourth day, not seeing her yet, he said to his father, who had that moment shut the door of his cab upon a fare—
“Father, I want to go and look after the girl, She can't be well.”
“All right,” said his father. “Only take care of yourself, Diamond.”
So saying he climbed on his box and drove off.
He had great confidence in his boy, you see, and would trust him anywhere. But if he had known the kind of place in which the girl lived, he would perhaps have thought twice before he allowed him to go alone. Diamond, who did know something of it, had not, however, any fear. From talking to the girl he had a good notion of where about it was, and he remembered the address well enough; so by asking his way some twenty times, mostly of policemen, he came at length pretty near the place. The last policeman he questioned looked down upon him from the summit of six feet two inches, and replied with another question, but kindly:
“What do you want there, my small kid? It ain't where you was bred, I guess.”
“No sir” answered Diamond. “I live in Bloomsbury.”
“That's a long way off,” said the policeman.
“Yes, it's a good distance,” answered Diamond; “but I find my way about pretty well. Policemen are always kind to me.”
“But what on earth do you want here?”
Diamond told him plainly what he was about, and of course the man believed him, for nobody ever disbelieved Diamond. People might think he was mistaken, but they never thought he was telling a story.
“It's an ugly place,” said the policeman.
“Is it far off?” asked Diamond.
“No. It's next door almost. But it's not safe.”