“I’ll sew for an hour,” Robin said, as Duck was peeling off his shirt. “I’d like to play with Danny a while before he goes to sleep.”
“How’d you know wots a hour?” asked Spider.
In for a penny, in for a pound! “I … I have a watch,” Robin said, and went to pull it from his jacket.
“Is it a watch wot runs?” asked Mouse.
Robin nodded.
“You c’n tell time actual?” asked Piggy.
Robin nodded again.
“C’n we have a look?” Duck asked.
“Where’d you git it?” asked Mouse.
“It belonged to my papa,” replied Robin. “But … but it’s not real nickel or anything like that. It’s … it’s only plate.” He could not, of course, forget what Mr. Slyke had said.
“Don’t care if it’s a cup an’saucer,” Duck said. “None o’ us ever had no watch. Never hope ter have one nice as this.”
“Wot’s the use o’ one, Duck,” said Mouse. “None o’ us is able ter tell wot it says.”
“Would you like to learn?” Robin asked. And from the looks on their faces, there was hardly any need for an answer.
So the evening ended up with the boys poring over his watch, arguing over what the big hand said and what the small hand did not say, as instructed by Robin. And Robin sat sewing on Duck’s shirt with Danny by his knees on the blanket left by Mr. Gribbins. What with the candles flickering merrily away and lighting up the room, it was as cozy a scene as could be imagined.
If only, Robin thought, he did not have to worry ever again about shining shoes!
Chapter XI
A Chilling Customer
The following day, Robin trudged off to spend the day with Mouse. Mouse, having been apprised of Robin’s unfortunate attempt at shoe shining while apprenticed to Duck, did not shove any brushes at him unexpectedly. Or, for that matter, shove them at him in any manner at all.
The morning after that, Robin went off with Spider. And although a great deal of instructing was done, by the end of the day, Robin still had not shined a single shoe. Greatly to his relief.
But on the fourth day, his luck ran out.
“You can’t go on learnin’ the rest o’ yer days,” said Duck. “None o’ us did. None o’ us even got friends wot showed us how ter shine. We jist hung ’round someone wot were doin’ it, ’til we got arsked ter move on. So time you took a try doin’ it on yer own.”
There was no escaping it any longer. Armed with his box, brushes, and blacking, and with a fainting heart inside his patched jacket, Robin marched off beside Duck, who was only to help him find a good corner to set up his box. That done, Duck informed him he “were goin’ ter do jist fine,” then with a wink and a big grin of encouragement, went whistling off to his own place of business.
Unfortunately, he had no sooner disappeared than another shoeshine boy appeared, older, much bigger, and with tiny pig eyes that looked accusingly at Robin from a red face round as a pie pan.
“Wot does you think yer doin’ in my spot?” this individual snarled at Robin.
The terrified Robin, who actually wondered what he was doing in any spot at all, picked up his box and scurried away without a word. It was probable that this spot did not belong to the boy, but the last thing on Robin’s mind was to stay and argue about it.
He found another corner two blocks away unoccupied by another shoe-shine boy. But he almost hoped someone would come along and chase him out of this corner as well. Not to mention any other corner he might try. He could then return to the church, probably early, and spend the rest of the day playing with Danny. No one could blame him if he could not find a free corner, now could they? Tomorrow he would try again. Perhaps he would wake up bolder and braver.
But no one came to claim his corner, which must have been a poor choice, because there were no customers either. At least, no one came up to him and said, “Shine, please.” Whether any man passing his stand might have been a customer would never be known, for he could never bring himself to chase after one with the words, “Shine your shoes, mister?” He grew paralyzed at even the thought of doing it.
Finally, in the late afternoon, a few drops of rain fell. As Robin stood huddled against a wall, they fell faster. Surely no one would be wanting to stand there in the rain having his shoes shined. As soon as the rain let up, Robin determined he would hurry back to the church. The rain lasted only a very short time, but he had already made up his mind to leave. What was the point of standing there damp and miserable when it was clear that he was going to shine no shoes that day? He picked up his box and set off.
All the way he kept telling himself what a failure he was. Visions of the great amounts of money he was going to make had long since vanished. If he continued being a failure, what was he going to do about buying milk for Danny, and the other things he was going to need one day soon? It was hopeless. Just hopeless!
“Blast!”
Robin had just crossed the street to the church corner when he heard this. In front of the church stood a handsome carriage drawn by two sleek horses. The polished brass door handle and the coach lights gleamed in the street lamp near it. A tall, somewhat heavy-set man in a glistening top hat and a black coat richly trimmed in a fur collar, was standing by
