THE LOVE-CHILD. 559 



Patch was quailed, Ezra flinched, the guests looked grave, and Belroy, 

 taking me by the hand, led me out declaring, as we retired, that he 

 would not only be answerable for my appearance, but would also 

 defend, to his last acre, any charge that might be brought against me. 

 Without the slightest molestation I was allowed to be withdrawn ; and 

 Belroy led me off silently to the field : there he left me, saying, ''Lad, 

 bide here ; do as I told thee, and fear nothing ; for I'll be thy friend 

 against keeper or squire, hog, dog, or devil, to my last tooth." 



My first impulse was to go and look at the place where I had 

 plumped into the ditch ; a pheasant, most probably the one I had hit, 

 was lying breast upwards in the black fud. I then proceeded to 

 halloo joyfully round the field : and scarcely two hours had passed, 

 when a basin full of bacon, brocoli and potatoes, surmounted by a 

 huge lump of brown bread, was brought to me by little Agnes. She 

 had already dined upon roast fowl and ham, but took a fancy to my 

 bacon. I told her all that had occurred to me in the morning, and 

 by the time we had emptied the basin, Agnes and I were as fami- 

 liar as though we had known each other a hundred years. After a 

 brilliant game of bo-peep, in the rough uncultivated ground at the 

 upper part of the field, I gallantly escorted her over the bridge, and she 

 tripped off through the adjoining meadow. My tea was brought by 

 a clumsy milk-maid, who gave me a clush on the jaw with her cold, 

 soft, fat palm, and dubby sausage fingers, for innocently asking if her 

 name was Molly. 



The next day Agnes did not come ; no, nor the next after that, 

 and I began to be weary of my confinement. The dowdy duds 

 of Farmer Belroy's grandfather became disgusting ; I loathed them, 

 and determined to resign. Accordingly, at nightfall, making another 

 exchange with the mopstick, I went home, perfectly delighted, in my 

 own scanty, coarse, buttonless and tattered suit. The prospect of two- 

 pence had ceased to be fascinating. 



Determined to resume my former glorious free, though by no 

 means profitable avocations, on the following morning I reached the 

 foot of Transom Torr, a long and steep hill about a mile off, in time for 

 the stage-coach, which I and six or eight other equally ragged urchins 

 usually attended during its slow progress up the steep, attempting 

 by our feats of agility to amuse the passengers, from whom we were 

 occasionally rewarded with some small donation. I could not only turn 

 heels over head as well as the most active of my competitors, 

 but had a knack of trotting on my hands with my legs aloft, which 

 neither of them possessed. On this occasion my achievements at- 

 tracted the favourable notice of a middle-aged passenger, who, when 

 we had reached the pinch of the hill, alighted, and addressed me. 

 ' e What's your name, my little man ? " said he. I told him it was 

 Tadpole. " What friends have you ? " In reply, I enumerated my 

 grandmother, Agnes Belroy, and Blue Peter the poacher. " Aye ! 

 aye!" said he, "I thought you were going to the devil; here, here's 

 sixpence for you; come across to Caddiscombe Fair next Monday, 

 inquire for Lavolta's troop, and I'll see if we can't save you. If you 

 should forget the name, you will see me with a long whip in my hand ; 

 and look, I've a blue wart under my left ear. On Monday, mind, at 

 Caddiscombe." 



