In this condition he was found by the owner of the grounds, George Brisbane, Esquire, of Lively Hall, who, accompanied by his wife, and a tall, dignified friend with a little girl, approached the see-saw.

"I am glad you enjoy yourself so much, my young friend," he said to Welland; "to which of the ragged schools may you belong?"

In much confusion--for he was rather shy--Welland made several abortive efforts to check the see-saw, which efforts d.i.c.k Swiller resisted to the uttermost, to the intense amus.e.m.e.nt of a little girl who held Mrs Brisbane's hand. At last he succeeded in arresting it and leaped off.

"I beg pardon," he said, taking off his cap to the lady as he advanced, "for intruding uninvited on--"

"Pray don't speak of intrusion," interrupted Mr Brisbane, extending his hand; "if you are here as Mr Seaward's friend you are a welcome guest.

Your only intrusion was among the little ones, but as they seem not to resent it neither do I."

Welland grasped the proffered hand. "Thank you very much," he returned, "but I can scarcely lay claim to Mr Seaward's friendship. The fact is, I am here in consequence of an accident to my bicycle."

"Oh! then you _are_ one of the poor unfortunates after all," said the host. "Come, you are doubly welcome. Not hurt much, I hope. No?

That's all right. But don't let me keep you from your amus.e.m.e.nts.

Remember, we shall expect you at the feast on the lawn. You see, Sir Richard," he added, turning to his dignified friend, "when we go in for this sort of thing we don't do it by halves. To have any lasting effect, it must make a deep impression. So we have got up all sorts of amus.e.m.e.nts, as you observe, and shall have no fewer than two good feeds.

Come, let us visit some other--Why, what are you gazing at so intently?"

He might well ask the question, for Sir Richard Brandon had just observed Hetty Frog, and she, unaccustomed to such marked attention, was gazing in perplexed confusion on the ground. At the same time little Di, having caught sight of her, quitted Mrs Brisbane, ran towards her with a delighted scream, and clasping her hand in both of hers, proclaimed her the sister of "my boy!"

Hetty's was not the nature to refuse such affection. Though among the poorest of the poor, and clothed in the shabbiest and most patchy of garments, (which in her case, however, were neat, clean and well mended), she was rich in a loving disposition; so that, forgetting herself and the presence of others, she stooped and folded the little girl in her arms. And, when the soft brown hair and pale pretty face of Poverty were thus seen as it were co-mingling with the golden locks and rosy cheeks of Wealth, even Sir Richard was forced to admit to himself that it was not after all a very outrageous piece of impropriety!

"Oh! I'm _so_ glad to hear that he's much better, and been out too! I would have come to see him again long long ago, but p--"

She checked herself, for Mrs Screwbury had carefully explained to her that no good girl ever said anything against her parents; and little Di had swallowed the lesson, for, when not led by pa.s.sion, she was extremely teachable.

"And oh!" she continued, opening her great blue lakelets to their widest state of solemnity, "you haven't the smallest bit of notion how I have dreamt about my boy--and my policeman too! I never can get over the feeling that they might both have been killed, and if they had, you know, it would have been me that did it; only think! I would have-- been--a murderer! P'raps they'd have hanged me!"

"But they weren't killed, dear," said Hetty, unable to restrain a smile at the awful solemnity of the child, and the terrible fate referred to.

"No--I'm _so_ glad, but I can't get over it," continued Di, while those near to her stood quietly by unable to avoid overhearing, even if they had wished to do so. "And they do such strange things in my dreams,"

continued Di, "you can't think. Only last night I was in our basket-cart--the dream-one, you know, not the real one--and the dream-pony ran away again, and gave my boy such a dreadful knock that he fell flat down on his back, tumbled over two or three times, and rose up--a policeman! Not _my_ policeman, you know, but quite another one that I had never seen before! But the very oddest thing of all was that it made me so angry that I jumped with all my might on to his breast, and when I got there it wasn't the policeman but the pony! and it was dead--quite dead, for I had killed it, and I wasn't sorry at all--not a bit!"

This was too much for Hetty, who burst into a laugh, and Sir Richard thought it time to go and see the games that were going on in other parts of the field, accompanied by Welland and the missionary, while Hetty returned to her special pet Lilly Snow.

And, truly, if "one touch of nature makes the whole world kin," there were touches of nature enough seen that day among these outcasts of society to have warranted their claiming kin with the whole world.

Leap-frog was greatly in favour, because the pract.i.tioners could abandon themselves to a squirrel-and-cat sort of bound on the soft gra.s.s, which they had never dared to indulge in on the London pavements. It was a trying game, however, to the rags, which not only betrayed their character to the eye by the exhibition of flesh-tints through numerous holes, but addressed themselves also to the ears by means of frequent and explosive rendings. Pins, however, were applied to the worst of these with admirable though temporary effect, and the fun became faster and more furious,--especially so when the points of some of the pins touched up the flesh-tints unexpectedly.

On these occasions the touches of nature became strongly p.r.o.nounced-- expressing themselves generally in a yell. Another evidence of worldly kinship was, that the touched-up ones, instead of attributing the misfortune to accident, were p.r.o.ne to turn round with fierce scowl and doubled fists under the impression that a guilty comrade was in rear!

The proceedings were totally arrested for one hour at mid-day, when unlimited food was issued, and many of the forlorn ones began to feel the rare sensation of being stuffed quite full and rendered incapable of wishing for more! But this was a mere interlude. Like little giants refreshed they rose up again to play--to swing, to leap, to wrestle, to ramble, to gather flowers, to roll on the gra.s.s, to bask in the gladdening sunshine, and, in some cases, to thank G.o.d for all His mercies, in spite of the latent feeling of regret that there was so little of all that enjoyment in the slums, and dark courts, and filthy back-streets of the monster city.

Of course all the pins were extracted in this second act of the play, and innumerable new and gaping wounds were introduced into the clothing, insomuch that all ordinary civilised people, except philanthropists, would have been shocked with the appearance of the little ones.

But it was during the third and closing act of the play that the affair culminated. The scene was laid on the lawn in front of Mr Brisbane's mansion.

Enter, at one end of the lawn, a band of small and dirty but flushed and happy boys and girls, in rags which might appropriately be styled ribbons. At the other end of the lawn a train of domestics bearing trays with tea, cakes, buns, pies, fruits, and other delectable things, to which the ragged army sits down.

Enter host and hostess, with Sir Richard, friends and attendants.

(_Host_.)--after asking a blessing--"My little friends, this afternoon we meet to eat, and only one request have I to make--that you shall do your duty well." (Small boy in ribbons.--"Von't I, just!") "No platter shall return to my house till it be empty. No little one shall quit these premises till he be full; what cannot be eaten must be carried away."

(The ragged army cheers.)

(_Host_.)--"Enough. Fall-to."

(They fall-to.)

(_Little boy_ in tatters, pausing.)--"_I_ shan't fall two, I'll fall three or four."

(_Another little boy_, in worse tatters.)--"So shall I."

(_First little boy_.)--"I say, Jim, wot would mother say if she was here?"

(_Jim_.)--"She'd say nothin'. 'Er mouth 'ud be too full to speak."

(Prolonged silence. Only mastication heard, mingled with a few cases of choking, which are promptly dealt with.)

(_Blobby_, with a sigh.)--"I say, Robin, I'm gettin' tight."

(_Robin_, with a gasp.)--"So am I; I'm about bustin'."

(_Blobby_, coming to another pause.)--"I say, Robin, I'm as full as I can 'old. So's all my pockits, an' there's some left over!"

(_Robin--sharply_.)--"Stick it in your 'at, then."

(Blobby takes off his billyc.o.c.k, thrusts the remnant of food therein, and puts it on.)

Enter the bra.s.s band of the neighbouring village, (the bandsmen being boys), which plays a selection of airs, and sends a few of the smaller ragam.u.f.fins to sleep.

(_Sir Richard Brandon_, confidentially to his friend.)--"It is an amazing sight."

(_Host_.)--"Would that it were a more common sight!"

Enter more domestics with more tea, buns, and fruit; but the army is glutted, and the pockets are brought into requisition: much pinning being a necessary consequence.

(_Lilly Snow_, softly.)--"It's like 'eaven!"

(_Hetty_, remonstratingly.)--"Oh! Lilly, 'eaven is quite different."

(_d.i.c.k Swiller_.)--"I'm sorry for it. Couldn't be much 'appier to my mind."

(_Host_.)--"Now, dear boys and girls, before we close the proceedings of this happy day, my excellent friend, your missionary, Mr Seaward, will say a few words."

John Seaward steps to the front, and says a few words--says them so well, too, so simply, so kindly, yet so heartily, that the army is roused to a pitch of great enthusiasm; but we leave this speech to the reader's imagination: after which--_Exeunt Omnes_.

And, as the curtain of night falls on these ragged ones, scattered now, many of them, to varied homes of vice, and filth, and misery, the heavy eyelids close to open again, perchance, in ecstatic dreams of food, and fun and green fields, fresh air and sunshine, which impress them more or less with the idea embodied in the aphorism, that "G.o.d made the country, but man made the town."